The Individual Games
by FireBreadandSnares
Summary: These are the 100th Annual Hunger Games, and certainly not what you're going to expect. The Gamemakers have you in for a treat, and no moment will be a dull one. *NOT A SYOT!* These are the Individual Games, and you can expect the unexpected. Rated T because it's the Hunger Games. Happy Hunger Games, and May the Odds be Ever in Your Favour!
1. The Announcement

**Author's Note: Thank you for stopping by and reading my story! Enjoy!**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Hunger Games. All rights go to Suzanne Collins, not me.**

* * *

President Gesuza Marrish looked at her reflection in the mirror. Tall, slim, and beautiful, she had liked what she had saw. But deeper than that, she was powerful. Threatening. Deadly. Maybe even scary. But she didn't feel like that. To her, she still felt like a normal Capitol citizen.

_C'mon Gesuza! You aren't the same person anymore. You are the president of Panem, a glorious country led by you. You can't be like that anymore. You are President Marrish._

There was a quiet knock on the door of her room, and she quickly went and answered it. The Head Gamemaker, Kanchi Flano, was at her door, holding a clipboard, and in the traditional Head Gamemaker purple robe.

"Hello President Marrish. We're ready for you, so come out when you are ready." Flano exclaimed to her, giving a genuine smile afterwards. He was obviously pumped for the games. Planning three arenas was a tough task for him, but I knew he'd be ready for it.

"Alright, I'll just be a second." I returned the smile and gently closed the door. I fixed my hair, put on one last coat of mascara and I headed out the door. There were plenty of people all around, and everyone was stressing. It was understandable though, because after all, it was the announcement of the 100th annual Hunger Games, or the fourth quarter quell. There had been 100 years of Hunger Games, and they deserved the best games yet. My assistant came over to me, wearing a headpiece that had a headphones and a speaker to talk into. She guided me through the crowd, and when we were at the end of the backstage area, she left me alone for about a minute, then returned. The area was much less busy; almost no one else was around.

_Must be starting soon._

My assistant interrupted my thoughts, as she had begun counting down from ten.

"Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one."

At the end of the one, I walked out of the back stage to be greeted by thousands upon thousands of citizens of Panem, all chanting "Hun-ger Games!" I walked up to the podium on the main stage and smiled cruelly. I knew all eyes had been on me at that moment.

_The districts must be upset. But they deserve it. After what they had done against the Capitol, they deserved it. Better give the speech._

"As a celebration of the individuality of all tributes, all female tributes will be in a separate arena from the males. The arena's will be completely different, and when three tributes for each of the genders are left, they will be sent into a completely new arena until a victor arises. Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor!"

I could tell the Capitol was going to be going crazy over this. And I had plenty of reasons to agree with them.

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**Okay, so the next chapter is the chapter showing all of the tributes for the 100th Annual Hunger Games! I hope that you enjoy reading my story!**

**Review!**

**FireBreadandSnares**


	2. Tributes for The Individual Games

**AN: Are you excited for this year's line up? The full list is below.**

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District One:

Male: _Hector Jones_

Female: _Michaela Albright_

District Two:

Male: _Kierran Tallyn_

Female: _Elise Victorien LaFrate_

District Three:

Male: _Cyber Farrow_

Female: _Farah Louise Jodae_

District Four:

Male: _Hunter Princeton_

Female: _Eaurin Orc_

District Five:

Male: _Hero Benedict_

Female: _Ida Clayworth_

District Six:

Male: _Nick Poleos_

Female: _Soleil Lume_

District Seven:

Male: _Holand Quincy_

Female: _Daelyn Peak_

District Eight:

Male: _Lachlan McKay_

Female: _Esmee Porter_

District Nine:

Male: _Roketi Mauluga_

Female: _Zia Fertilis_

District Ten:

Male: _Arlo Larkson_

Female: _Aviana Summers_

District Eleven:

Male: _Verne Crawley_

Female: _Auburn Oden_

District Twelve:

Male: _Channing Kliesen_

Female: _Mackenzie Lapider_

District Thirteen:

Male: _Tristen Olrey_

Female: _Azelia Sentayi_

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**These are the tributes! Aren't you pumped? I hope that you enjoy!**


	3. FAQ

**Listen up my beloved readers! I got a FAQ here so if you have a question, then it'll probably be answered here… If you don't, then skip past this chap. by all means. Thanks! :)**

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**Q: Do you have any tributes in this story?**

A: No. I didn't feel like making my own and having the risk of favoritism. :P

**Q: How often do you update?**

A: It depends. As it is for most people, I put school first, not Fanfiction. But I'm a competitive swimmer, so things can get REALLY busy. But I try my best to update ASAP, and hearing all of your lovely reviews makes me want to write even more. I update at least two times that day. But normally I update every 3-4 days, if I'm not busy.

**Q: How do I contact you if I have a question that's not here?**

A: That's easy! You can PM me, ask a question in a review (I reply to all of them!), or tweet me ( [at sign] FireBreadSnares).

**Q: When will the games start?**

A: I'm hoping for the end of November-Mid December. Read all of the authors notes for full info.

**Q: What's the theme for the Quarter Quell?**

A: I had mentioned the theme in the very first chapter. The genders will be spilt up into two different arenas until there are _three left from each gender, making there be six in total left._ From there, they'll be taken into a completely different arena until a victor arises. What I'm trying is to get the tributes to not know what to expect, because they'll be put through different things, and not know what to expect. It'll be entertaining, I assure you of that.

**Q: Is there a sponsoring method?**

A: Yes. It used to be chapter three of this story, but it's very 'interactive' and having it on the story would increase the chances of it being taken down. It's on my profile.

**Q: Is there a blog/forum/website for this story?**

A: There used to be a forum, but I took it down because no one was posting anything. I have no plans to start a website/blog, but maybe in my next SYOT I may. But for now, read the authors notes because that's where you can be informed of stuff.

**Q: Can I do anything to make you like my tribute better?**

A: Review. Lots. I like an author that reviews a lot. They're tribute might have a bit more luck than everyone else. :D

**Q: What is the average length of your chapters?**

A: The Reapings are about three thousand words each chapter. As for training, the chariots, prep team/stylist/train rides, it depends. I haven't started them yet.

**Q: When is the likely date that this story will be finished? (It's not like I want it to, I'm just curious).**

A: Um… I'll say about January-ish… I have no idea. But it'll end with the Victor returning home/ Victory Tour. When the time comes I'll put up a poll and you'll see what'll be the end.

**Q: How will the games work?**

A: The games work by having 3-5 POVs (1000 words for each POV), depending on the circumstances. If there is a death, then that'll take away one POV from the chapter (ex: 3 planned POVs, and one dies, then there'll only be 2 POVs.). At the bottom of each chapter will be what the arena is, the current status of the Tribute, their training score, and creator's sponsor points. I'll keep you informed, let's just say that.

**Q: Will there be any hiatus' while you're writing?**

A: If I go on vacation, then yes. But usually not... That or I'm being lazy. If you're worried about me, PM me. If I don't respond then I'm probably dead... {Just kidding... Or am I? O.o}

**Stats:**

_**As of October 25th, 2012, at 1:56PM…**_

Total Hits: 1,433

Total Reviews: 64

Total Favorites: 9

Total Follows: 20

Total Chapters: 12

Total Words: 29,938


	4. District One Reapings

**Hey people! I'm back, with a new chapter! Woot woot! It's the district one reapings, and I really like it. I hope you do too, and here it is! And also, I'd like to thank anyone that favorited, suscribed, followed, or reviewed! You guy's make my day! And I am on a sugar rush right now. YAYYY! Okay, here's the district one reapings:**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games.  
**

Michaela Albright's (16) POV:

Reaping day. The day that every child between the ages of twelve and eighteen dread on this dear day. I really don't want to show up. I am a career and I have been training, but I still worry about what will happen in a couple of hours. After all, they do rig it. I know it happens, every year, and I have suffered through the reapings for already 4 years, but the same feeling of terror and fear stays with me all day long. Figuring that there's no use in simply lying in bed, I get out of my bed and make my way over to the mirror. My hair is tangled, not surprisingly, and I make a quick decision to pull it back into a unimpressive ponytail. My skin is perfect, as always.

_Isn't everyone in this district perfect?_ I ask myself as a roam over to the kitchen of my home. No one else is up, and that leads me to wonder what time it is. Looking at the old clock hanging on the wall, I see that it is only 5:30, an hour and a half earlier than my normal wake up time. But I guess it makes sense. Today isn't just another normal day. It's reaping day.

Hector Jones's (16) POV:

Reaping day. It's the day where I work up the courage to brave the day, hope for the best, and if my luck cooperates, then I get to return home, back to my mother and father, who both dearly love me. But if my luck is feeling fairly rebellious today, then it's off to the Capitol, and I will risk never seeing my true love, Michaela Albright ever again. Ahhh, Michaela. I wonder what she's doing right now. I had been attracted to her when we were both 14. We were at school when she had dropped some sort of book thing, and I had picked it up. I approached her, and that's first when her stunning sky blue eyes had met mine, an unimpressive dark green color. Her copper hair was pulled into a ponytail, which hit her upper back. She had hastily grabbed it back with her porcelain colored hand **(Sorry, but there was no other way to describe it... :P)**, and continued on walking down the hall. Ever since that moment, I had loved her with all my heart. Every time I saw her, my heart would skip a beat and I would tune everything out. That is, until she gave me a nasty look (which it seemed she always did), and avoided eye contact. Then, I would stop staring at her and move on, but still imagining what I would do if I could only take her away with me. Except the only way to go away is the Hunger Games. Alone it sounds horrible. But with Michaela, it sounded good. Nice. Perfect.

Maybe even what we both need right now.

Michaela:

I make myself some breakfast, but I barely eat any of it. It's almost impossible to get over the fear of reaping day, and the thought of having to kill people… But if I do get reaped, the last person I want to be in the arena with is that brat Hector Jones. I swear, he stalks me 24/7. I can't get a moment alone without him going and looking at me, or asking how my day was or whatever the question of the day is for him. It annoys me so much, if I am ever in the arena with him, then I will kill him - I'm sure of it. But he is sweet, though. I remember the one time that I first had some sort of interaction with him. I had dropped my notebook behind me, and Hector had picked it up for me. I wanted to thank him, but I couldn't. My three older brothers, Mitchell, Matthew, and Micah, along with my father, always told me to hide my emotions with a glare, as everyone in my family except my mother referred to showing your emotions as a weakness and never to reveal your weaknesses. My mother, of course, had never wanted me to be a career, had always wanted my to be that perfect little girl who was a girly girl and innocent. But I never wanted that. I am a little bit of a girly girl, but not in a way that you would notice. More like a thing that slips when I don't want it too, but it somehow works out in my favor in the end. Micah walks in, and I am surprised to see that it's already 8:00. Micah is 17, so he's still valid for the reapings, but he's much less nervous than me. I even overheard him saying to Dad that he was planning to volunteer this year.

"Any last training, Albright?" Micah says sleepily, but it came out as if he was trying to be cocky.

"First of all, Mr. Cocky, you're also an Albright, and second, let's not be so pumped. It's reaping, if you haven't noticed, and the last thing I want to be is nervous." I proclaim, leading him out to the backyard, filled with just about every weapon imaginable. There's swords of many types, a couple of spears, a bow and arrows, and my personal favorite, the knifes. Dad had them delivered from the Capitol, who had a couple of connections with our family and was quite fond of us. It's also our family specialty, so how could we proclaim that if we had cheap knifes? We couldn't. I feel them all, their smooth handle, and razor sharp blade all screamed my name. I pick some of them up and release all of my anger and frustrations into just shooting them. They all land where I want them too, and my brother gives me a gentle clap, cautious not to wake up the rest of the family. I take a bow, and take it all in, the moments that I am having before the reaping that tells me my future.

And with this feeling, I feel ready for what will happen in three short hours.

Hector:

My mother comes over to me, and orders me joyfully to eat a roll and take a bath. I happily do both, and when I'm finished I get into my reaping clothes. It's a white shirt, with some black slacks and dark brown dress shoes. I've been wearing it since I was 13, so it's a little small, but it'll do for this year. I realize that it's already 12:15, and I only have half an hour to get to Town Square, considering that all valid children have to be at Town Square by 12:45, or the consequences are unimaginable. I head off, and my parents both come, but I get an early start, and they don't catch up the entire time. I see Michaela and wink at her, but instead she just rolls her eyes and heads over to the female area. I check myself in with the Peacekeeper, and arrive at the 15 year old section. I really wasn't too fond of the other 15 year olds; they call me names and tease me because I'm not a career. I have some small training with the sword, but other than that, I don't have much training. But I don't care, really. The chances are pretty slim of me getting picked, considering that almost no one takes the terrasse, and District one is pretty popular with volunteers. But I still am worried, because there is still a chance of it happening. I look to my right and see Michaela, and my eyes meet with hers. She doesn't scowl, but gives me a small smile that must have lasted only a hundredth of a second. She looks away, but in my mind I play that smile over and over again. She really was gorgeous, more than anyone else that I've ever seen in my life. I smile to myself as the large clock strikes one.

"Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be _ever _in your favor!" Sarose Koln says, giving a bright smile.

Here we go, once again.

Michaela:

After getting Micah breakfast, I have a bath and get into my reaping outfit. It's new, and my eldest brother, Mitchell, had bought it after completing my sixteen-year-old training. It's very fancy, but they knew that if I ever was in the Hunger Games, then I want to be looking good. It is a dress, with a blue bodice on top and a midnight blue skirt. Along with that, I have black ballet flats, and after many demonstrations, I taught Matthew, my middle brother how to fishtail braid my hair. My family leaves before me, but I'm not surprised; they always want me to be at the same level as them, and they always wanted that to be a challenge for me. We must have been at almost at the Town Square, and I'm still trying to catch up to them.

_They must be running!_ Suddenly as I take a glance to the side, I see Hector, with his green eyes, and dark brown wavy, mid length hair. He winks at me, and I roll my eyes in disgust. I finally catch up to my family, and I say my goodbyes. I make my way over to the fifteen-year-old section, and check myself in with the Peacekeeper. I look to my left and see Hector staring. He really isn't that bad, but if he just stopped following me around and being stupid then he might have a chance. I lose control of myself and give him a small smile, only to scold myself and turn away. I yell at myself, but Sarose Koln, who is this year's escort for two unlucky teens, interrupts me.

"Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be _ever_ in your favor!" She starts, as I look around trying to find something to distract me.

"I am Sarose Koln, this year's escort. I came all the way from the Capitol, all just to be the escort of this year's tributes. Speaking of tributes, let's get started with the ladies!" She says in her usual chirpy tone. I stare immensely at the reaping ball, filled with thousands of names.

"Malaya Finaca!" She clearly speaks into the microphone. I smile as I realize that it's not me. But it slowly turns into a frown as I realize that I know her. She's 14, and has a three-year-old brother that she takes care of. As far as I know, she has done no training at all. She'd be easy prey in these games, and although I hate the games, I always enjoy seeing a victor from our district come back. And before I can stop myself, two words come out of my mouth:

"I volunteer."

Hector:

_Wait, was that Michaela who volunteered? She can't! She's too young! I don't want her to die! _I keep on repeating those shocking words in my head. She makes her way up to the stage with a solemn face. No tears, no smile, even her eyes motionless and staring out somewhere. Her whole body is blank, it look's like she has no emotions. And I hate it.

Michaela:

I silently curse myself for doing that without really realizing. I never wanted to volunteer at all, I just wanted to stand through the reapings and return back home with the three brothers and my Dad. But that was obviously not the case today. Along with some random guy, I'll be off to the Capitol, and where in a matter of days I'll be forced into the Arena of the year to fight to the death. Peacekeepers grab me, but I twist out of their grip and I head up without the accompany of Peacekeepers. I mentally remind myself to hide my emotions, like my family is always nagging me to do. I walk up the stairs and onto the stage.

"Well that was very exciting!" Sarose exclaims. "What's your name sweetheart?"

She pushes the microphone in front of my mouth, and I reply as calmly as I can. "Michaela Albright."

"Well that was very interesting! But we're not finished yet, we still have to go through the boys!" With that, Sarose makes her way over to the boy's reaping ball and draws a name on one person who didn't bring their luck today.

Hector:

Sarose starts talking for a while, and that gives me some time to brace myself for what's about to happen. I take a deep breath as she puts her slender arm into the reaping ball, and draws a name. She holds out a slip, and I hope for the best.

"Hector Jones!"

Crap.

Wait, no, really? The arena? With Michaela? That doesn't sound bad. I was thinking of that happening this morning! And it really happened! I like that idea. It makes me feel… Happy! And that's what I display on my face. Shoulders back and smile plastered on my face, I proudly walk onto the stage. I have a feeling that I'm going to like the next couple of days with Michaela by my side.

Michaela:

Him? Really? At first my eyes flicker over to Hector, but they then go over to Micah, who can still volunteer. I give him a pleading look to volunteer, as he's witnessed Hector's ridiculous ways of stalking me. He gives me a slight nod, as if he didn't understand what I was saying. I take a quick look around, and see that no one is really looking at me right now except my family, because the Mayor is reading the Treaty of Treason. I give my head a slight shake, meaning no. But Sarose interrupts our head movement conversation, making Hector and I shake hands. I cooperate, and shake his sweaty hand. Shortly after wiping my hand onto my skirt, Sarose ushers us into the Justice Building. It's plush and beautiful, unlike anything I've ever seen before. The carpet must have been the softest thing I've ever felt, that is, until I felt the couch. It was made out of velvet, a material that my Mother had introduced to me very long ago. First who comes in are my family, made up of my three brothers and my dad. I all give them a hug, and then they start blasting me with informative words.

"Don't show your emotions!"

"Get your hands on some knifes!"

"Don't trust anyone!"

"Don't make any allies!"

"Make allies with the Careers!"

"Never let anyone control you!"

"Be brave!"

"Make an impression!"

"Get sponsors!"

"Be confident!"

They all keep blasting me with words, and I take all of their valuable comments in and remember them. I can't afford to lose them. I can't afford to leave them. I can't leave them alone. I must be a victor of these games, no matter what the price. I can't be afraid. I must be the best. Or my future is not going to be a nice one.

Hector:

After shaking hands with Michaela, we go into the Justice Building and am escorted over to a little room. My Mother and Father come in immediately, and it's visible in their faces that they've both been crying. I don't want them to cry. I want to win these games, and I want to be the victor. It will be hard, but I know that I can do it.

"Hector, no matter what happens I want you to know that we always love you. You're an amazing swordsman, so use that to your advantage. Don't let anyone tell you that you can't, because you can. You are going to win, Hector. Be brave. Don't trust anyone. In the end, all that they'll do is stab you in the back. Be careful, okay?" My father says, while trying to comfort my sobbing mother. We all are in a group hug until the Peacekeepers end it, and drag us apart.

I just don't want that to be the last time that I see my family.

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**Did you like it? Did you hate it? Do you have any improvements? Tell me! It equals sponsor points! So it's a win-win situation! I hope you enjoyed it, and I was writing it at midnight, so if there are any mistakes, then there's your reason. Also, I updated my profile, and there are some notes for this story that I DIDNT write when I was on a sugar high, which I'm on right now! Thanks for the support, and I'll update soon!**

**FireBreadandSnares**


	5. District Two Reapings

**Aloha! It's FireBreadandSnares here. I about terrible about not updating, but I tried to PM all of you at about midnight before I went on vacation, but my mom caught me and took away my laptop. So I wasn't able to PM everyone. :(. I have a whole bunch of notes that I'm putting in, so please read those. They'll be at the end, because I don't want to delay anymore. I'm going to add the disclaimer and get the ball rolling!**

**Disclaimer: I sadly don't own The Hunger Games. Suzanne Collins does.**

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**Elise Victorien LaFrate (16), District Two, POV:**

The shining light from the outside fills my room as I struggle to wake up. I never really had been much of an early morning person, but they probably want me to get ready for the Reaping before time runs out. Rubbing my eyes as I push the covers off my body, I discover that Jules had already put out my outfit for today. I groan slightly as I make my way over to the shower. I undress and walk in. The hot water crashes down on me, a luxury that most people in our district don't have. Right, I should probably explain that. My father had always been a wealthy business person in our district, and we were constantly taking in the dough. That is, until things took a toll on our family. My mother had recently fallen with a un cure able disease, and plenty of our money had gone. Months after, there had been false accusations of my father being a "fraud" and helping our current Mayor spark yet another rebellion against the all-powerful Capitol. Fearing my safety, he taught me Krav Maga, an old type of Martial Arts. But only days after that, I had been kidnapped. They had taken me to an abandoned building, and I was blindfolded and my arms and legs were tied to a chair. Using my new fighting skill, bravery, and a whole bunch of logic, I had taken out one of the fugitives. The rest ran away, and I somehow managed to find my way back home. The rebellion issue was solved, and our family soon came out of our debt, and we've done great ever since. But there was some sort of feeling that ran through my veins when I had killed the kidnapper. It had been a feeling of accomplishment, yet I liked seeing them be hurt. I had felt pleased. Their hurt, their pain, it was almost a joy, for me. That's when I had gotten involved with the training. My best is daggers, but almost always I prefer my martial arts. I'm unstoppable all by myself.

**Kierran Tallyn (18), District Two, POV:**

"Kierran! One more time, or I'm coming up there with no mercy! You got me?" shouts my Mother from the lower level. Of course she's like this. It's reaping day. It's always either 'We can't be late! It'll ruin our reputation!' or 'Your Father is a Victor, honey, and incase you haven't noticed we have to be there earlier.' But I realize that she's serious about no mercy, she's done it before.

"Yeah sorry, did some extra training last night. Just let me get changed and I'll be there soon." I reply, quickly, yet hastily. I stick to my word, and get changed. Walking down the slim corridor towards the stairs, I hear Abigale's familiar high pitch voice talking to Sasha, my older sister.

"…Volunteering! I know! I couldn't stop him! I tried talking to him to not do it, but he waved me off instead!" Abigale squeals to Sasha.

_Telling Abby about my plans was the worst thing that I have ever done. Now, Sasha's going to blab it to Mom, and then I'm going to be caught. But that won't stop me. The Tallyn family needs another Victor to continue our legacy, and the only way that's happening is me volunteering. After all, nine years of my life have been dedicated to this moment, that moment where I, Kierran Tallyn volunteer, and change the games forever. _

"One word to Mother and you're both dead." I say sternly. Mother would freak if she found out that I was planning on volunteering. She can't settle on "losing her son". But she's not. I'm eighteen. I'm from District Two, the most powerful district. I've trained since I was nine. How am I not ready?

Both Abby and Sasha look at me surprised, and I quietly shut the door. Heading downstairs, I see that Mother had made a delightful breakfast. My favorite, currant scones with wild berry jam. I seat myself at the table, and almost immeadiatly after I sit down Abby comes and she whispers into my ear.

"Are you still volunteering?"

I think about this carefully while taking a bite of scone.

_Let's think this through. Abby and Sasha need you, even though Sasha's older. Dad's almost always being whisked to the Capitol, so I'm almost always the male of the family. I've worked for this since I was nine, so why waste all of that time?_

"I don't know, Abby. I honestly don't."_  
_

**Elise:**

I step out of the shower to be delighted that Jules, our Butler, had set out my Reaping clothes. A flowy white dress; the style matchus my middle name. Beside are my tall white boots, and a pair of lace gloves. I wrap my hair up with a towel, put on a robe, and turn on some classical music and instantly I'm dancing elegantly in a fashion that long ago they called Ballet. My Mother had taught me when I was five, but she sadly didn't live for much longer after that. Twirling around my bedroom, the music invigorates my soul with each graceful movement I make. Music was truly the only way I could feel free. Away from the boys staring, away from the pressure of being famous, and away from the fact that my Father and I are the richest people in our district. Music is where I fly.

With that last thought, I turn off the music and get changed into my reaping outfit. My honey-blond hair is done up in such way that looks elegant, yet extravegant. Heading downstairs, I see that my father is already there. Sipping a cup of a bitter black liquid and reading Panem's national newspaper, he sits back in our plush chairs. He looks up at the sound of me footsteps, and he immeadiatly smiles.

"Elise! Come sit down, sweetheart! You look beautiful today. I got some toast ready for you." He comments, ushering me to sit down at the table. I take a seat, and grab some toast. While spreading wild berry jam on my toast, I see the clock and realize that it's already !2:15pm. I only have 30 minutes to get to the reaping, and plus we have to be early because of my father's executive roll. I raise my eyebrows, but he only shakes his head.

"Elise, they council let me come 15 minutes before the reaping start, not the usual 25."

I breath a sigh of relief, and relax. The toast is warm and slightly hard, but as soon as the jam hits it it instantly softens. The jam gives it almost a sour zang, but the toast takes that away and perfects the flavour. I close my eyes and feel the flavours unfolding on my palate. It always has been my favourite breakfast, even though wild berry jam is hard to get. Once I finish my toast. I take a couple sips of my hot lemon tea and check how I look. My curvy body is flattered with the tight top on my dress. My skin almost blends in with the dress, it's that pale. But my hair changes things, providing a pop of colour. They say I'm desirable.. I don't agree, though. Who would want someone who's solid white? I think this to myself as I head out the door. I see my best friend, Jaela, and we meet. I not scared at all... Right?

**Kierran:**

After finishing my breakfast, I begin to get changed into my reaping outfit. A plain black dress shirt along with jet black dress pants and shoes that match my hair colour, according to Sasha, my pale face seemed to "float across the ground." I didn't blame her. Almost everything except my eyes, teeth and skin was black. My grey eyes were such a dark colour that my eyes seemed black from afar. My hair was identical, but not grey.

_Plain Black_.

I come downstairs, and see that Abby is ready too. After a couple quick goodbyes, I grab her hand and we walk out the door together. We see many things, including the rich LaFrate house and the poor Finaca home. About halfway through the trek, I see that girl who always wears the victorian style clothes. I don't mind her, but then again, I really don't have any friends...

We arrive at the reaping a little late. Almost all the people are here, and they look ready to start. I kneel to her eye level and look into her bright, aspiring, blue eyes.

"Abigale Malaya Tallyn, do not volunteer. No matter what happens, you are not going into that arena. Alright?"

"Yes. But what about you? Please don't, I can't afford to lose my only brother!"

"I won't Abby."

Suddenly Peacekeepers drag us apart, and I try to reach Abby, but there are too many.

"Promise!" She suddenly screams out for a split-second. I get distracted thinking, so Peacekeepers take that golden oppourtunity to grab me and drag me to the other eighteen year olds. I look back at Abby and see fear in her eyes. They flick back at me, and I don't dare look back at her. After all, I can't make promises I can't keep.

**Elise:**

"Welcome to all people who are here today. It's reaping day, and I am so excited to be this year's escort! To kick things off, lets start with the Treaty of Treason, read by your loyal Mayor!" this years Escort proclaims, with a sickening smile. I hold back laughter, and turn to Jaela, who is trying the same. My father glares at us, and we both stop. I bite my tongue, and my face turns blank. I look at Jaela, and her face is the same too. She must have gotten the same message as me: _I'm watching, girls. Stop laughing, or we'll see what happens after the reaping._

Once the Treaty is finished, Jaela and I hold eachother's hand as hard as we can. We don't want to be reaped. What would happen if we were? It would be bad, of course, but really, what's going to happen? There must be thousands of slips in there!

_1/1000 Elise. It's not going to be you. _

But it's not. Far from it. But in reality, not that far.

**Kierran:**

"Jaela DuBois!"

"What? No! No! No! This can't be happening! WAIT! I volunteer! Let me through! I VOLUNTEER!" screams the girl. She's the one who wears the Victorian wear. Elise, I believe her name is. Elise scrambles to get to the stage before the other tall girls all pushing to get to the stage first. Elise makes her way up first, and fails to put on a brave look. Her eyes are filled with tears, only moments before pounding down her face. I check to make sure Abby is okay and she's unharmed.

_Good. Now what am I going to do? To volunteer or to not volunteer..._

"That was certainly exciting! What's your name sweetheart?" our WAY to exuberant Escort exclaims.

"Elise Victorien LaFrate."

"Beautiful name, Honey! Onto the men!"

Her hand waves around the bowl for way to long until she pulls out a slip and unfolds it.

_What do I do?_

**Elise:**

"Isai-"

"I VOLUNTEER!"

Almost all the boys scream this, and only one makes it to the stage. It's that boy... Oh what's his name... Kier! That's him. With the jet black hair. Wow. Every part of him except HIM is black. Pure black. Same pale skin as me, it makes us look very awkward together. Day and Night are the first things that hit me.

"And what's your name?"

"Kierran Tallyn, thank you very much." he says very coldly, yet in a mysterious way.

"Alright! Thank you for coming to this year's reaping, and give a warm applause to this year's tributes!

The crowd cheers as we're pushed into the Justice building. Here we go. Here is where the hell starts.

**Kierran Tallyn (18), District Two, POV:**

The Peacekeepers put Elise in a room to say her goodbyes, and then put me in me in a room across from it. They close the door behind me, and I observe the room. It's small, but the perfect size to say goodbye to those I love. Against the far wall there's a plush red love seat made of velvet. The couch has a golder rope-like border around its edges, and little gold beads are attached to the wooden frame. I seat myself there, and soon my twelve-year-old sister enters. She comes and gives me a hug, resting her head on my bulky shoulder. I feel wetness on my shirt, and realize that it's her tears.

"Why'd you do it Kier? You said that you wouldn't. I can't lose you. I love you," she whispers into my ear while I gently stroke her back in an attempt to comfort her.

"I had to, Abby. We need this. We're barely sustaining, let alone being Careers. The people at the training center have threatened to kick us out if we don't pay them. If I win, then this is a golden opportunity for us. We could live in a nice, fancy house. Have wild berry jam all day long. Be rich for the rest of our lives. Doesn't that sound good to you?"

"Yes. That sounds great. I love you. Please, do your best to win. You are the best, I know it deep in my heart. That you, Kierran Griffin Tallyn are the best. Don't give up Kier! I know that you can do it!" she says. I feel tears welling up in my eyes, but I force them not to run down my face. I release from the hug.

"I will. You _will_ see me again, Abby. I will see you again Abby, never forget that. Ever! You can't give up, Abigale! If I go, don't give up! You can do it, Abby! I love you so much! This _won't_ be the last time that you see me! I _am_ coming back, and I will do anything in my power to make sure that happens! You got me?" I say, almost yelling now. At first Abby looks scared, but then pulls me into a hug.

"I love you, Kier. No matter what."

"I love you too, Abby. No matter what."

**Elise:**

The tears cannot stop coming. Each and every one means more and more.

_'"Jaela DuBois!" At first I sigh in relief, but then realize that the person being reaped is right beside me. We're holding hands, fingers still interlocked. Peacekeepers approach us, but I protectively stand in front of Jaela. "What? No! No! No! This can't be happening! WAIT! I volunteer! Let me through! I VOLUNTEER!" I run up to the stage, beating all of the other eighteen-year-old girls also trying to be the next tribute.'_

It's all coming back to me. My relief, my shock, my fear, and my sadness. I couldn't let Jaela into the games. She has barely trained at all, let alone held a weapon. Her going into the arena would mean certain death. I couldn't let that happen. She's my best friend. I could never let her go. And that isn't going to happen. She's my best friend. I'm always going to be there for her. And I don't plan on the Hunger Games changing that.

The door suddenly swings out, and Jaela is pushed in. I run up to her, giving her a bone-crushing hug in the process. We're both crying. I know why. I never want to let go (and I don't plan on it), but she has already lost faith in me and by taking in her 'last' moments with me. We stay like this until the Peacekeepers drag us apart.

"Don't give up on me, Jaela! I'll be back before you know it!" I say in between sobs as she fights Peacekeepers to see me as much as she can.

"Never, Elise! Don't give up, Elise!"

I will never give up. And I will do everything in my power to ensure that doesn't happen. I will not let go of Jaela.

* * *

**Did you like it? It's not the best and I still might do some changes, but I think it's alright. I got a beta on this, so expect things to be improved over time goes on (Beta: Sorry I couldn't send this to you. I'm in a rush...).**

**Notes:**

**-Treaty is after the tributes are chosen, but I had to add that little moment with Elise and Jaela.**

**-I have a twitter page now! It'll have little sneak previews of the next chapter, updates, and all sorts of stuff. And even if you don't have an account you can see it, so no worries!**

**-Ultra Mega Update Day is coming in 4 days! UMUD is the month anniversary of me being on FF! I update as many times as I can, I plan to update 3 Times! August 16th!**

**-New FULL chapter coming tomorrow!**

**-Thanks to all that Reviewed, followed, or favourited! You are the ones who make me write faster!**

**-Can we get to 35 Reviews? That's only 6! Please?**

**-Incase you are bored I have a new one shot up. :D**

**-I just had some smarties. It's Canadian. :D**

**-I like chocolate**

**-I'm rambling. It's what I do.**

**Alright, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please Review, and I'll see ya tomorrow!**

**FireBreadandSnares**


	6. District Three Reapings

**AN: I'm so so so sorry for not updating when I said I would. I got this chapter done late, sent it to the Beta late, (and I haven't even gotten it back yet! But it's my fault, so don't get mad at the Beta, get mad at me.), and so here we are, on Ultra Mega Update Day (which I call UMUD). You're getting... *drumroll***

**5 Chapters today!  
**

**You read that right! 5 updates today, all because I love all of you so much! If you don't know what UMUD is, it's the month anniversary of being on Fanfiction. I've been on this site for 2 months, and to celebrate that, I update a lot! And I mean a lot. But yeah, this is number 1/5, the D3 reapings, and I really hope you enjoy it!  
**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games, that's Suzanne Collins. I also don't own the song in this chapter.  
**

* * *

Farah Louise Jodae (17), District Three, POV:

The quiet pitter-patter of rain crashing down onto the roof wakes me up. My eyes flick open, but to my relief, there's nothing there. I sit up and look around. Nothings touched. The only movement is my Dad snoring in the bed across from me. Rolling my eyes, I climb out of bed.

"6:38am. Huh." I mutter to myself as I see a clock. Walking towards the kitchen, I stroll past one of the windows in our home. By now the rain is pouring, and making a loud banging noise whenever it hits the roof.

_Dad hates noise. He's going to be up soon._

I figure that he's going to want to take a bath, so I start to boil some rainwater over the fire. I search our usual empty cabinets for something interesting for breakfast. After all, it is Reaping day. I don't want my possible last day at home to be a bad one. I rifle through for a while until the familiar noise of the bubbling water leads me over there. I put out the fire, pour the water into the bathtub, and continue to look through the cabinets. Almost instantly, I hear the water from the tub moving around, and I know that it's Dad taking the bath I got ready for him. I almost give up when I discover in the highest shelf in the very back a box of oats. I've only had them on rare times, but during that lucky time that I do get them, I always value every thick spoonful. I pour some leftover boiled water and mix the oats with it. Re-igniting the fire, I put it over the stove and wait. The aroma is so tempting. That along with some rationed Tracker-Jacker jelly makes it irresistible. By the time it finishes, it's almost seven am, and I get the jelly and the oats. Ironically, my Dad comes right when things are finished. He gets himself a bowl and some jelly, and seats himself on the hard wooden chair.

"Funny, how you always come right after things are finished. I pour the water into the bath for you; you're there right after. I finish the oatmeal; you come and get a bowl. I'm starting to get a little suspicious, I must say." I say, grabbing a bowl and stirring in the jelly.

"It's not funny, it's simply a coincidence. No need to be suspicious, Miss Farah." He says between stuffing bites into his mouth. That man truly does not understand how much tender, love, and care that oatmeal received from me. Rolling my eyes, I allow my urges to eat the oatmeal be put to rest as I put the first spoonful into my mouth. It is truly delicious… With the thick oatmeal and the sweet yet sour jelly, it is unbeatable.

"This is good stuff, Farah. I'm guessing you discovered it in the back of the cabinet?" my middle aged Father asks.

"Yep. Where did you think I got it? District Eleven during the middle of the night?"

Dad chuckled slightly as he thought of a response.

"I don't know, maybe? We can't predict you, Farah! Maybe you did some sort of weird exchange thing!"

"Silly. Whatever. Besides, it's Reaping, and I have to get ready, don't I?" I jokingly comment.

"Unless you look like a slop I suggest you do."

I shoot him a dirty glare but he doesn't care.

Cyber Farrow, (15), District Three, POV:

"Cyber get up! Get up! Get UP!" my sister Byte shouted in my face while violently shaking me. After rubbing my face with my hands, I put on a silly face. My head is tilted to my side, while my eyes are crossed and my tongue is sticking out. My sister laughs hard, but unfortunately not enough to forget about me and go back to bed. She drags me out, still laughing when she looks at my now normal face, and pulls me from my arm over to the window.

"What are those clouds going to do?" She asks, while pointing to a dark cloud. I recognize it immediately. It's a cumulonimbus. A storm cloud, as most people know it as.

"Byte, that's a cumulonimbus. It's going to storm soon. You'll be fine." I assure her, still rubbing my eyes. I begin to head back to bed but Byte doesn't come along. "Byte, let's go. You're going to wake up Mom because of all the noise you make!"

"Can I have five minutes?" the five-year-old asks, her blond curls bouncing whenever she takes a step.

"Yeah, fine. I'll stay with you, though."

We spend the next five minutes watching the storm come in. Steadily, the rain starts coming in, scaring Byte. I carry her back to her bed, tucking her in and putting a light kiss on her forehead. She smiles, and I begin to walk back to my bed, which is right beside hers.

"Cyber!" she says loudly. Mom moves around in her bed with Dad, so we take that as a message to stop being so loud. I quietly walk back to her bed.

"Can you sing to me?"

I was never really asked by my sister to sing to her, but she must have wanted it badly if she asked me, not Mom.

"I don't know what, but, I'll try."

"_Hold on, to me as we go,_

_As we roll down this unfamiliar road._

_And although this wave is stringing us along,_

_Just know that you're not alone._

_Cause I'm going to make this place your home._

_Settle down, it'll all be clear._

_Don't pay no mind to the demons, _

_They fill you with fear._

_The trouble it might drag you down._

_If you get lost, you can always be found._

_Just know you're not alone,_

_Cause I'm going to make this place your home._

_Ooooooo-Oooo-Oooooooo_

_Oooooooo-Oooo-Ooooooo_

_Ooooooo-Oooo-Ooooooo_

_Settle down, it'll all be clear._

_Don't pay no mind to the demons,_

_They fill you with fear_

_The trouble it might drag you down._

_If you get lost, you can always be found._

_Just know that you're not alone,_

_Cause I'm going to make this place your home._

_Oooooooo-Oooo-Oooooooo_

_Ooooooo-Oooo-Oooooooo_

_Ooooooo-Oooo-Oooooooo"_

Farah:

Spending that quality time with my father, I heat up some water and prepare my bath. By now, it's already 7:30, and most people are waking up. After undressing and climbing in, I feel the hot water swish around with every slight movement. I sit back and relax… My eyes feel so droopy… Maybe I'll close them for just a little while…

* * *

Wait, what happened? Did I fall asleep? I couldn't have! I still have to sell those flutes I made last night! Looking up at the clock, the time disappoints me:

_10:17 am._

"Great. Just great. I just had to fall asleep," I mutter to myself as I climb out and take a small dry cloth to dry me off. Tossing my pajamas back on, I go over to my closet. Well, it's more like a shelf, but I call it a closet. Makes me feel like the people in District One. I inspect all of the contents, but there are no surprises like the box of oatmeal. Sighing only slightly, I pick up my usual reaping outfit, a flowy white dress that reaches my knees. It's strapless, and made of a soft material they call cotton. After putting on a pair of dark brown leather sandals, I walk over to the shelf above my Father's bed. There's a little grey box with our most prized possession, an amethyst necklace from my mother. The rock matches my eye color, violet, and my father only lets me wear it on special occasions. I head to the kitchen, and see that my father left a note before going off to work:

_Farah,_

_I saw you sleeping in the bath. I had to admit that I found it pretty ironic. I'm off to work now, so I'll hopefully see you after the reaping. If I'm lucky they might let us pop over to see them. But I don't know. Good luck. I love you._

_Dad_

_P.S. You can wear the amethyst necklace. _

I rolled my eyes when I read that when I fell asleep it was "ironic". He really doesn't care anymore, does he? Oh well. I think about trashing it, but I make a quick decision to shove it in my pocket.

_It might be the very last piece of him that you ever see._

I'm getting kind of hungry, so I fix myself some tea and crackers. They're not really good combinations, but here in District Three, we take what we got. I linger over tea, thinking, for a few minutes, and them decide to go to the Reaping. I take one last look at my house, look through the window, and by now, it's pouring. My dad once said that we had an umbrella, so I grab it, open it up, close the door, and make my way to the dreaded reaping.

Cyber:

Byte is well asleep by the time that I fell asleep, so I make my way over to my bed, only steps away. I climb in, and drift into lingo…

"Cyber! Cyber wake up! It's already eleven! Wake up, boy!" a figure shouts at me, while shaking rapidly. My vision is really blurry, so I can't exactly see that great, but by the voice I can tell it's my Dad. I feel déjà vu, but then I realize that I had sung the song to Byte, and went back to bed. Now, as my vision clears up, I see that it's my Dad shaking and screaming at me. The heavy scent of rain fills our house.

_I knew it was a cumulonimbus! By the sound, it's probably storming by now. _

"Alright, alright! I'm up!" I moan to my Father. He stops shaking me, and I rub my face. Climbing out, the slight lingering smell of eggs lures me into the kitchen. My eyes agree with my nose as I grab myself a plateful, along with some bird stuff sliced into strips. I politely eat, savoring every bite. Once I finish, I head outside and use our outdoor shower. It certainly isn't the greatest method, let alone the safest, but it works well and saves money. After finishing my shower, I wrap myself up in a towel and head back inside. Everyone is panicking, so I put on a confused look and walk over to the cabinets where we keep our clothing.

"CYBER! You _need_ to hurry! We have only fifteen minutes until we go!" my Mother squeals, bouncing all over the place. I take this as a message to hurry the hell up, so I do. I get changed in record time, into my typical black trouser pants and pinstripe white shirt. Combing my dark brown hair very quickly, I quickly say bye to everyone and run out the door.

Farah:

I'm walking to Reaping, when suddenly a boy named Cyber runs over.

"I'm sorry, I really don't know you, but can I go under your umbrella? I'm wearing my formal clothes." Cyber says, hair dripping and his shirt is already soaked.

"Oh certainly, come under. I don't bite," I say, giving him a welcoming smile.

"Thanks," he says, climbing under the umbrella. "Say, what's your name?"

"Farah Jodae. Yours?" I ask.

"Cyber Farrow. I like your dress. That flower over there would look good in your hair," he says, pointing to a flower. It's a white primrose, one of my favorites. He quickly runs out and grabs it, then coming back under. "There. You look dazzling now. Did I tell you that your eyes are spectacular? The violet is such a deep color."

My cheeks feel rosy. I can tell I'm blushing. No one ever told me I look dazzling. No one ever described my eyes like that. No one ever told me any of that. Except that changed today.

Cyber:

Farah blushes, and I reassure her by giving her a tight squeeze. She blushes even more, so I stop.

"You can tell me if I'm making you uncomfortable," I tell her, and her red cheeks fade back to the regular light pink. "I'll stop. I think I will. You're really embarrassed, aren't you?"

"Maybe,"

"I'll stop. Anyways, do you have any siblings?"

"Just me. My mother died giving birth to me."

"Sorry about that. I have a little sister. Her name is Byte, and she's five. She's seen the Hunger Games, but I'm not sure she understands it."

"That's good… I guess. What part of the District do you live in?"

"Circuit. What about you?"

"Beetee. I have no idea why they call it that, though. What kind of name is Beetee?" she asks, as we approach the town square. It has a Capitol-made tent overtop, to protect everyone from the rain. Did it honestly have to be today? While it's thundering? And Lightning? With all the fancy technology here, can't they predict the weather? Oh yeah, I forgot that they predict the Capitol's weather, not ours. How dumb is that?

"I don't know. Apparently in District Four, there's a Finnick, in Two there's a Paylor, and in District Twelve, there's a Katniss and Peeta. Probably named it after the Rebels. Don't you think?" I converse. "We live close. Maybe I can see you sometime?"

"Yeah. I would like that." she says, giving me a smile. We go under the tent and she closes her umbrella. I begin to walk away, but then she calls out my name.

Farah:

"Wait!" I call, running up to him. I hop onto my tippy-toes, and give him a small kiss on the cheek. I run away, but as I run away I look back and he's surprised. A lot. I laugh and smile as he gives a slight confused wave. Peacekeepers come up to him, so I look forward and continue running over to the other seventeen-year-olds.

Cyber:

That. Was. Amazing. Even though it was only a peck on my cheek… Wow. I like her. A lot. She seems really nice. We seemed to connect. Maybe if we make it through the reaping then I could see her… Our escort, Caroline Daratine, interrupts my thoughts.

"Welcome all young boys and girls! I am so, _so _excited to be your escort in this Quarter Quell! I absolutely can't wait for these games! They sound, so, individual! Don't you think?"

Dead silence.

"Well then… Let's start with the girls!" she chirps, building confidence as she went on. She waves her hand around the bowl and reads out the name.

"Farah Jodae!"

No. Not the closest thing I've had to a friend. No. I can't let her go into these games. She… She… I can't find the word.

Farah:

Crap. Really? Me? I want to push the other girls out of the way, but fortunately they already have moved away. I stomp over to the stage and scowl at everyone in sight.

"Beautiful eyes honey! They're amazing! Onto the boys!" Caroline cries, making me want to scream. But I do manage to hold in my anger and look at the boys. One of them will be my district partner. The question, though, is who?

Cyber:

I hold my breath as she draws a name out. I close my eyes as she reads the name.

"Cyber Farrow!"

And it's me.

Farah:

_Not Cyber! We can't both go! He's probably one of the closest friends I've ever had! He can't go in! _

Cyber slowly walks up to the stage, a sad look plastered onto his face. His clothing is still slightly wet, which is probably not going to attract any sponsors. He nods a couple of times, but I'm still too furious to hear anything. Then Peacekeepers grab us and we're led into our goodbye rooms.

Cyber:

Why did this happen to me? What was it? And who decided that Farah should be my next district partner? Why?

The door opens and Byte, my Mother, and my Father comes in. Little Byte runs up to me.

"You're wet." she asks, her chubby fingers playing with my hair.

"I know, Byte, I know. Now you listen to me, alright? I'm not coming back for a really long time, alright? I'll see you really soon."

"You'll come back, right? I hope you do. You're the best brother ever!"

"I'll be back before you know it Byte, okay? Don't lose hope, Byte. I love you so, so, so, so much. You'll see me soon." I assure her, tears streaming down my eyes and fogging my vision.

"Mom, Dad, I love you guys too. I'll see you soon, too. I couldn't have asked for anything better than all of you. Take care of Byte, okay? Make sure she's fed, and she's alright. I love you all so much."

Peacekeepers come in and pick up Byte. She tries to fight them, but it's easy for them.

"Don't worry Byte! I'll be back real soon! Be brave, don't give up for anything!" I elbow a Peacekeeper and grab Byte.

"I love you so much Byte! You'll be alright, you'll see me again so soon you won't be able to say short circuit! I love you so much!" I shout, while giving Byte one last hug and kiss. The Peacekeepers tear Byte from my grip as I try not to completely break down.

"Bye Cyber!" Byte says, waving goodbye. The doors slam closed.

"Goodbye Byte."

Farah:

You can't say goodbye to someone that you'll never see again in three minutes alone. You can't sum up all of the things they did to change you, or all of the things that made them in three minutes. One simply cannot do it. Three minutes is not enough to say "I'll miss you" or "I love you" enough. Three minutes is not enough to give someone a hug. Three minutes is not enough to say goodbye to your only family. But, those three minutes can change a person. It can change a one in a way you might think as 'unthinkable'. In those three minutes, every second counts. You see, the key is making it last. You're not going to gossip about the Capitol, you're not going to give them cookies, you're going to hug them. Kiss them. Smile at them. Make every moment last. And that's what I tried to do. My Father only has me, and is now threatened to only have himself. He wanted to cry, but I didn't let him. I told him that I'll miss him, but we'll meet again soon. I told him that he was helping me, always guiding me when things were tough. I told him that he changed my life. I told him that he's my best friend. Forever.

And I made every moment last.

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***The first person to PM/Review saying the name of the song and who it's by gets 10 Sponsor Points!***

**I'll be back soon! I hope you enjoyed it. I was legit crying when we had to say goodbye to Byte. There were tears. Also, tell me how you liked Farah's goodbyes. It was different than the others, which I like. Let's see. Can we hit 50 reviews? That's 10 reviews... Can we do it? I think we can.  
**

**I deleted the forum since no one looked at it or posted anything. :P.  
**

**I do have twitter! It's not random, I have plenty of stuff about FF, writing, reviews, sneak peeks, etc. FireBreadSnares incase you were wondering!  
**

**I'll see you later, Happy UMUD, and May the Odds be Ever in Your Favor!  
**

**FireBreadandSnares  
**

**P.S. BigBadMama, this chapter and the other ones that are going to be posted _will not _have been Beta-d so cut me some slack.  
**


	7. District Four Reapings

**AN: Hi! Welcome back to UMUD! I'm writing this at exactly 12:15am, but that's nothing. I usually go to sleep at about 3am. :). But anyways, I'm not going to say much. Here's the District 4 Reapings!**

**UPDATE 10:16AM: The next chapter after this will be coming in about 1h 45m.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Hunger Games. I own nothing.**

Eaurin Orc, (14), District Four, POV:

Come on, Eaurin, you have to get up now. Come on, Eaurin, you have to get your trident and your net. Come on, Eaurin, you have to go to the water and catch some seafood. Come on, Eaurin, it's almost eight, and the Capitol man needs your fish. Come on, Eaurin, you have to have a shower. Come on, Eaurin, you have to go to school now. Come on, Eaurin, you have to learn about the different types of fish now. Come on, Eaurin, you have to train. Come on, Eaurin, you have to go home. Come on, Eaurin, you have to eat dinner. Come on, Eaurin, you have to go to bed. Come on, Eaurin, you have to sleep.

It has been the same schedule since I was nine-years-old. My life has never been the same ever since. Back then, President Marrish was in her first year as President of Panem. My parents were both fishermen, and we were doing well. One night, though, I over heard them talking about running off to District Eight. Being scared, I pretended not to hear them and I simply went to my room. But when I saw them not selling the fish that we caught to the Capitol, I started to get worried. About a week later, President Marrish came along.

_'You sell the fish to the Capitol, or your fate will be determined.'_

My parents still fished, but they still didn't sell to the Capitol. It was the night that we were going to run off. We had all caught fish, not intending to sell to the Capitol. But that day, President Marrish had come over. She had already been informed that we weren't selling to the Capitol, and she was furious.

_'I have been informed that you still haven't sold your seafood to us. That is unacceptable. You have chosen to disobey the Capitol, and that is unacceptable. You will both be executed immediately. We have chosen to spare your daughter, and she will take over your job. If at anytime she doesn't do her job and sell sixty percent to the Capitol, then she too will be executed.'_

And with that, Peacekeeper held me in their grip. President Marrish lifted up her jacket pocket to reveal a long dagger. She started with my Father first, as he was the one who originally came up with the plan to disobey the Capitol. She played with the dagger for a few moments, the suddenly cut his cheek. Immediately bleeding, she made them endure a long, painful death. She whispered a couple of words into his ear, and then he spat in her face. Wiping the saliva off, she stabbed my Father in the heart, and he died instantly. She also stabbed my Mother in the heart, not desiring as slow of a death. I had saw my parents die right in front of me, by the hand of a cruel president. All my parents were trying to do was spreading the good. Because they wouldn't sell the Capitol, they were selling them to the further districts so then they could have food. But as always, the Capitol uses us and takes all of the goods we have, leaving us to survive on our own. I hate every aspect of the Capitol.

_"You are going to do the fishing." she says. She points to a little bench at the end of the dock. "On that bench you're going to see a man. You give him most of the fish; only keep enough to give you energy to work. He will give you money in return. You may have random boat checks at any time. If you are caught keeping fish or not selling them to the Capitol, then your fate will be determined by the Capitol." And as soon as she came, she disappeared._

Hunter "Hunt" Princeton, (16), District Four, POV:

The soft crashing of waves wakes me up immediately. Being a heavy sleeper has never been a strong part of me. Then again, a lot of things haven't been, either. I've never fought. I've never stepped a foot inside of the Training Center. I haven't held a triton, although I've seen my father use it on some occasions. It doesn't matter, though. What are the chances, anyway? My sister and I don't take the terassea. Our family never believed in being Careers, but we could easily pretend to be. People like us. I don't fully understand what aspect makes us that way, but there's nothing wrong with being likable, as my mother always says. I smile as I think of my mother. She currently works backbreaking hard, but at the end of the day, she always smiles.

I take off the covers, and almost immediately, I feel something sharp on my right foot when I hit the hard, flimsy wooden ground. Not an ache or a sharp pain, but almost like something is physically inside of my foot. I look down to see that a sliver of wood somehow made it's way into my foot. I clench, but slowly pull it out. To my relief, there's no blood, which has never been my strong suit. The pain subdues immediately after I pull it out. This time, more carefully, I put my feet down and fortunately there's no sliver wanting to lodge itself into my foot. I get up onto my feet and I relax.

_It's probably just to go and get into reaping now. It'll save time when Sue is complaining that we're going to be late, she'll be the one that I'm waiting on._

Looking for the single dresser that occupies our families clothing, I think about what reaping should be like. Our escort, Senza Delta, should be there. Our new Mayor, Cooper Lanco, will be there, so it'll be good to see him, and of course, all of the girls will be throwing themselves at me. I can't really escape from them. I've been called "charming", "cute", "funny", "clumsy in a good way", plus many more. I guess you could call me popular, but I prefer liked. Popular makes me sound like one of those people who always are making fun of other people. I find what I want, a sky blue button down t-shirt and brown faded jeans. After dressing, I head back downstairs to see that Sue, my Mother, Claire, and my Father, Peter are already downstairs. All three are talking until my Mom stops talking and gives me a genuine smile. Sue's long, blond hair flips around, seeing that it's me.

"Well what took you so long?" she asks, putting down her cheese and bread. She's still in her pajamas, and looks like she just came down after she woke up. She looks pretty tired, so I suspect that she hasn't noticed that I'm wearing my reaping clothes.

"Well I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm wearing my Reaping Clothes, not some pajamas, like you." I say, pointing to her pink nightgown. She looks down, but soon shrugs after.

"Oh well. What are the chances, anyways?" the well-fed blonde says finishing her breakfast.

"Not very much at all. Hunt, I'll get you some breakfast, Sue, you go up and get changed into your reaping outfit. I want to talk to some of the other mothers." Mother says, beginning to slice some bread for me. Sue passes by me, walking up the stairs. I take in this moment, and I think of the chances that I _won't _return.

Eaurin:

This day, however, is different. I get to go to reaping, and have a day off fishing for once. I lock up the boat, and hook it up to the dock securely. Once that's done, I walk down the beach over to my small house at the end. It isn't much, really, just a kitchen, a cabinet for clothing, a table for various uses, a bathroom, and a bed. It's small, yet cozy. The soft, yet coarse sand is a natural feel to me. Small parcels of shells, sand, and rocks make it one of the most unique beaches in District. It fills in between my toes, but the wave of cool, salty water washes it all away. It is my only place of pure comfort.

I make it to my "house" and I immediately walk over to the basin filled with purified water. Cleaning my face, the water is cold and refreshing. It feels relaxing, and it feels like home. What they used to say, home is where heart is, is a true saying for me. It's where today, I will leave my heart to exchange for the girl who has a hatred again President Marrish, where I will leave the "innocent little girl" back at home. It's where my plan of revenge against President Gesuza Marrish will go into play. She won't even know what's hitting her.

After cleaning myself up, I search the fairly empty drawers for my reaping outfit. All of the things here are Capitol provided, considering a nine-year-old couldn't take care of herself without a little bit of help. It doesn't take me long to find my reaping outfit. An ocean blue dress with one-inch straps, it fits pretty well. I haven't grown much since last year, so I fit pretty comfortably in it. Since I love the color black, I add on a black belt around my waist, trying to extenuate my almost unknown curves. I put on my Mother's old locket, that's doesn't have the usual chain; it has a thin piece of rope. After tossing on some ballet flats that match my dress color, I head off.

I take a couple looks at the district while I head over. The homes are brightly painted, greatly adding some sort of excitement in our fishing district. All of the homes have a clear path to the Justice Building and the various piers, so things it's easy to make my way over to the Reaping. I see fear in all of their faces, but I also see their mothers and fathers kissing them as they leave. In a way I envy them, always having someone to fall back on, but I also take than anger and fury buried deep inside of me and release it when I train. It's how I cope with what my life is now, compared to five years ago, where I was safely in my parents arms, shielding me from the dangers that lie within this cruel place they call Panem.

The Capitol knows that they can help us. They're in a great place, full of industries that could supply us for millions of years. But instead, we're busy being used and tortured for already one hundred years. Can't they find some other way of entertainment? The Capitol is made of people just like us. If there were no districts, no Capitol, then how different are they? Not very much. They can't find it actual entertainment, can they? People, no _children _are dying at their control. It's almost a joke. Children, innocent poor adolescents are pushed into a hellhole to kill people; some might even be from their own district. Who finds that entertaining?

Hunt:

Breakfast is divine. My Mother had prepared it in such a way that the cheese slowly melts onto the fire-toasted bread while you eat it. I spend a couple of minutes relaxing, until there's a knock on the door. My father goes to answer the door, and I lean the chair back to see what who it is.

"Hunt, it's a girl." Father says without even a hint of interest in his voice. Stumbling on the way, I see its Jordana, one of my friends. She always talks to me, and provides a smile along with it.

"Hey Hunt. Can we walk to the Reaping together?" Jordana asks. I turn back and raise my eyebrows at Mother but to my luck, she nods her head. Waving slightly, I close the door. We begin to walk onto the wooden panels that provide a pathway. I stumble across them, leading to a laugh from Jordana. Flipping her auburn hair behind her, she mumbles something about being cute, that I can't fully understand.

"What did you say, Jordana?"

"Oh sorry, I didn't realize that I was talking so quietly." she comments, as a gentle breeze picks up. "I wanted to say that you look cute when you say that, but I think this will show it better."

Suddenly she takes my head and kisses me. Her warm lips crashed into mine as I wrap my hands around her waist. Her lips feel like butter against mine. A warm feeling spreads through me. Suddenly, it all comes back to me.

"_Hey Hunt." she says, sitting next to me. I'm on the pier, legs dangling over the edge of the pier. She puts her arm around my shoulder and we rock together. I smile and she returns one. We're watching the waves coming in, crashing against the water that borders the district. I close my eyes, taking all of the other senses in. I can hear the waves rocking, smell the salt, taste the salt, and feel the stableness of the wooden pier. The lush water hits up against my legs, but running off as soon as it came back. _

Eaurin:

I make my way to the Justice Building, hopefully being in the crowd one last time, and next year being on the podium, with the Mayor and the other mentor. I check myself in and the prick on my feeling isn't pain; it's joy. I smile as I meet up with the other fourteen year olds on the end. It's a perfect spot for making my way onto the stage.

The square slowly fills up, with many scared, yet eager teenagers. I shift weight from my left to my right, unable to find a somewhat comfortable position. After about eight minutes of waiting, the reaping finally starts.

"Hello future tributes! As many of you already know, I'm your escort for this year's Hunger Games! I am Senza Delta, and I have been escort for the past 3 years. I have a feeling that District Four is going to come out with some wonderful tributes for this Quarter Quell! As they used to say, without further ado, let's begin!" Senza says. Her green wig fits oddly as she makes her way over to the female reaping bowl. Clearing my voice, a rush of adrenaline comes through me. She barely has enough time to say the full name, Annie Falarne, when I bellow out "I volunteer". Both surprisingly and fortunately, there are no other volunteers, so my walk is hassle-free.

"Well hello! What's your name?" Senza asks me, in a chirpy tone that doesn't annoy me as much as I thought it would.

"My name is Eaurin Orc, and I am fourteen years old." I say proudly, smirking only slightly.

_This is your chance so shine, Eaurin. Scare the competition before we're even at the Capitol._

Changing my smirk so it's more noticeable, I also improve my posture and stand tall. I'm not too tall, but one look at me with a triton and you'll change your thoughts forever.

"Beautiful! Onto the boys!" She says, taking mini steps in her razor thin heels made so high that she might as well have her feet pointed.

"Hunter Princeton!" Senza proclaims into the microphone. Similar, there are no volunteers and males at the mid back push forward a boy that looks about sixteen. He has a crooked nose and grey eyes that look slightly scared. His honey blonde hair is plastered all over his face and it appears he made no attempt to comb his hair. He also has a silly grin on his face, but that slowly turns into a look of desperation as he faces reality.

"Well this has been very exciting! A volunteer and a reapee! I can already tell that these games are going to be the best yet! It is now time for your Mayor to read the Treaty of Treason!" Senza says, putting her arm around Hunter.

Hunter:

This, this can't be happening. I had four pieces of paper in that bowl. Four. And no volunteers. The chances were so slim, yet it was me. I wasn't supposed to be in the Hunger Games! I was supposed to be growing up, living a normal life, growing up, getting married, starting a family, growing old… But that won't happen now. Killer girl over there looks like she's going to kill the all of the people before we even get into the arena! Thank the rebels that we're not in the same arena… But I can't do this. My life is over, I might as well say goodbye and just die right here. I've never trained! I've never held a weapon! I wouldn't hurt a bug! But now I'm expected to kill someone…

My thoughts are interrupted when the escort comes and guides us into the Justice Building. Peacekeepers push me into a lush room. Almost immediately there's my whole family coming in, all have tears flowing freely from their eyes. We all begin to exchange goodbyes and "I love you" messages while hugging, kissing, and crying.

"I'm so sorry, Hunt! I should have treated you better before! I never expected this to happen! I wish I could change positions with you! I love you so much!" Sue says while sobbing into my arm.

"I didn't expect this to happen at all Hunter! I love you so much! I love you! I love you! I love you!" my Mother says, weeping into my other arm. Only my Father has the courage to stay strong throughout this.

"You listen to me, alright? You're going to come home. I don't know how, but I assure you that anything that we can do we will do. You can't give up, all right? Face your fears, and it can lead you to glory!" he says, and it's clear that he's fighting back tears. After that we all hug for a big group hug and we all cry together. When the Peacekeepers come in, we all separate easily, as we're too weak to fight them. I give them one last wave, and take in the final words that I was told.

_"Face your fears, and it can lead you to glory."_

Eaurin:

There's no use getting comfortable, so I don't. I begin to train for a little bit. Practicing my martial arts, I get into my inner Zen mode. Suddenly, I imagine that I'm in the games, on my podium in the dead center. There are all the other female tributes, looking at me. I smirk at all of them, draining any possible color from their faces. They transport me to the final arena, and I take out the other tribute easily.

"Eaurin Orc, you are the victor of the 100th Annual Hunger Games!" the announcer says in my mind, as I practice my kicks. The door opens slightly, and I kick it closed. Unfortunately, it doesn't end up how I want. Instead of the door closing, the door breaks in half, revealing a Peacekeeper.

"Lets go." he says, waving me to come out through the doorway where there used to be a door. I do as he says and we're whisked away to the Capitol where we could never return back.

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**How'd you like it? It's 12:17am here, so I don't know if we've reached 50 reviews yet, but only time will tell! I'm planning for 3 more chapters, so I'm really excited! Don't forget about my twitter, because I tweet frequently. Just ask Pax Cronin (he's an author here at FF) or PaxCronin. There's also some new sponsor items, so I'm excited for that. Some are useless, some are valuable! Check it out on chapter 3! Also I've been browsing your profiles, and I've been checking all of your favorites. If you had favourited me or my story, I will periodically check if it's still there. If it's not, then the number of points that you had will be deducted. So if you favourited my story and it's not there, then that's 5 points deducted. If it's fav. author, then that's 6 points. You don't fool me people, so don't play games with me. Thank you! Don't forget to review, and you still have 3 more chapters coming at ya!**

**FireBreadandSnares**

**P.S. This chapter is not beta-d.**


	8. District Five Reapings

**AN: Before you start ranting about UMUD, let me explain. I write when I want to. When I feel like writing, I do. I don't know what's going to happen when school starts for me, but I'll try to get chapters out at a reasonable time. So I didn't get my chapters done for UMUD, and I didn't feel like writing. Please don't hate me, because I hate myself for it already. Thanks for your support and understanding. It means a lot.**

**VERY IMPORTANT AUTHORS NOTE AT THE END!**

**Note: Ida is supposed to be really self-absorbed, but I'm not the best at showing that, so try to work with me!**

**Disclaimer: The Hunger Games is not mine. It's Suzanne Collins. And sadly, I'm not her. I do own all of the characters in this story, though.**

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Ida Clayworth, (15), District Five, POV:

The morning sun flashes into my eyes as I wake up. I don't want to, but I have to. I've never been fond of Reaping, but it's not as if I actually have a choice. Wouldn't want Peacekeepers roaming through my house, that's for sure. Slowly, I begin to sit on the edge of the bed, relaxing. My strawberry-blonde hair falls into perfect waves that only have the slightest bounce as I move around. Getting up, I see that my sister and brother, Marnie and Walter, are still sleeping. Rolling my eyes, I head downstairs. Mom and Dad are off to work already, helping supply the power to all of Panem. They work terribly hard, but they've also practically left me to go take care of my siblings. They never really had cared much about taking care of them. Yet ironically, they focus on them, not me, the one who takes care of them. I'm always over shadowed by my athletic sister and my logical brother. Can't they realize that I'm a perfect mix of both? In fact, I _am_ perfect. My hair never has a flaw. My eyes are a deep blue color, one of my assets. My body has nor a scratch or scar in sight. I _am_ the perfect daughter… But why don't they realize that?

Walter comes down shortly after me, rubbing his eyes. He looks nothing like me, with dull green eyes and brown hair. He doesn't usually wake up this early; I usually have about half an hour before one of them comes down. It's unusual, but I always enjoy having company, especially when I can talk to them.

"Hey buddy! How are you?" I ask, playing with his hair. He takes a step backward, and I stop.

"I was doing fine until you started messing up my hair. How many times have I told you not to do that, Ida?" He asks, straightening his glasses. He raises an eyebrow as it takes me a couple of moments figure out a good response. But he's too quick. "Exactly."

Walking past me and lightly brushing my arm as he does, he starts to roam the cabinets as he does. I peer over him, and see something that I want, but he simply shakes his head. By now, Marnie has come down, and she's also looking for something. She sees some tea and Walter sees these cranberry scone things, so we decide to pair them together. I brew the tea while they start on their scones. I wanted some sort of nut butter that I saw on some toast, apparently that's not the case.

"So. Did I tell you about that new Reaping Dress I got?" I say with a good vibe.

"Do tell, Ida, do tell…" Marnie mumbles with an edge of sarcasm in her voice. But she won't be unhappy when she grows into it!

"Well it's a white summer dress, and it's made out of this material they call cotton. It's super soft and it makes me look amazing. My wonderful curves and stuff are all highlighted and it makes me look amazing! I plan to wear it at reaping so that you can really see how good it looks on me!"

"Speaking of that, I gotta go get ready." Marnie says, getting out of the chair and leaving the half-eaten scone by itself.

"Don't you want some tea?"

She hesitates before responding.

"…No."

Hero Benedict, (17), District Five, POV:

"Hero, can you get up? Bravery is crying again. I've tried to calm her down but she isn't stopping." Justice asks, tapping me on the shoulder. Its early morning, but I'd do anything for my family. They're what keep me sane in this world where things are the complete opposite.

"Yeah, I'll try to help. I assume Dad and Mom are on the night shift?" I ask, taking the covers off and standing up.

"Yep. They haven't been here for too long, have they?" Justice asks, and I know what this question really means. She wants to know why it's really me that takes care of her and Bravery. But since our parents are at work a lot, I have to. That's just the way things are around here. We begin to walk over to Bravery's bed, and she's still crying. I take a chair and sit on it. Reaching for the six-year-olds hand, I hold it in my palm.

"Bravery, what's wrong?" I ask her, and she takes a couple of moments to collect herself before she begins to speak.

"It's always you and Justice that are always taking care of me. The other boys and girls always are hugging and kissing their parents, but I never get to see mine. Why can't I see mine? Why?" she asks, standing up. I easily pick her up, and we begin to walk around the house.

"Never told me any of that," Justice looks, and I shoot her a dirty look. She gets the message and she stops.

"Bravery, it's alright to be sad about it. Sometimes I am too. But we can't change how things are. Mommy and Daddy work really hard so we can have this nice house and plenty of food. If they didn't work, then we wouldn't be able to have any of that. Would you like that?" I ask, rocking her back and forward.

"I would like that. But I want my mommy and daddy. When are they coming back?" Bravery asks, her eyes full of affection and care.

"I don't know, Brave. I don't know."

Ida:

After Marnie's little outburst, I begin to talk to Walter, but he too doesn't look impressed. I get his some tea, and I get myself some breakfast. I also took a scone and some tea. The scone is dry and crumbly, but if you take a couple sips of tea, then it almost moistens it. The tea said "Chai" on it, but it has more of a spicy, ancient spice flavor. It's marvelous, and I must say that it is one of my favorites.

Marnie comes down and we switch places without a word. Walking over to the bathroom, I see my white dress. I brought it in the Market about a week ago. I was in dire need for a new reaping outfit. I saw this, and I immediately fell in love with it. Now, I toss it over my shoulders until it comfortably sits on my shoulders. The dress highlights all of my assets, but hides my imperfections. Not like there are very many, though. It's white summer dress, which is mainly a loose fitting dress with thick straps. Putting on a light pink leather belt around my waist and some black high heels that were my mothers. However, before I leave, I walk into my room and retrieve something. It's my mini rabbit toy that I got when I was very young. It's only about the size of my pinky, but it contains more memories than I can remember. I put it in a mini pocket located in my dress and begin the brisk walk.

Hero:

It takes Justice and I plenty more hugs and explaining Mother and Father's work until Brave falls asleep. Over an hour had passed, so Justice and I figure that there's no real use in going back to sleep. Mother and Father had left out some breakfast for us, so we begin to eat. Brave comes down and joins us. For the most part, we have a silent time. But none of us are usually talkative on Reaping day. Even Brave, who has only a small amount of knowledge with the Hunger Games, knows that it's a very scary day for Justice and I. Justice gets changed first, and then I go and get changed. I decided to wear a light green t-shirt that matches my eye color, and solid black slacks. I also put on some dark brown leather shoes. Brushing my almost solid black hair back, I approve of my outfit and walk downstairs. My thirteen-year-old sister is wearing a light purple dress that doesn't fit amazingly, but good enough to make her look presentable.

We take turns holding Bravery's hand on the way to the town square. When we arrive, there's an area for kids like Brave who can't stay with her parents but aren't old enough for the Reaping. Justice and I split up for a few moments, and then we get ready to leave. Checking in with the Peacekeeper at the table, I receive my traditional prick on the finger. Shaking my hand to reduce the pain, I find my spot amongst the other seventeen year olds. Looking to my right, I see the females. They look just as nervous as we are. Right now, at this moment, it doesn't matter whether you're rich or not. Whether you take the terassea or not. In fact most people don't even take the terassea. So that makes everyone equal, no matter what their family background or wealth.

"Hello citizens of District Five. Welcome to the reaping of the forth Quarter Quell! I will now proceed with announcing all of the victors that originated in District Five." Our Mayor says, his balding head showing beads of sweat. He begins announcing all of the Victors. A couple of them I've heard from school, but a lot are either unknown or I remember them from last reaping. We're not typically known for having many victors; we leave that for the careers. But every once in a while, something unexpected happens, like in the 74th Hunger Games. Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark were both from District Twelve, the poorest district. No one thought they were going to last past the bloodbath, let alone the final eight. But they did, and they killed the career boy from District Two. It was against all odds, but they did it.

"And now, let me introduce you to this years escort, Caroline Everlast!" he says, greeting a colorful Capitol woman.

"I am delighted to be this years escort for the marvelous District Five," Caroline says in her ridiculous Capitol accent.

"You all look amazing. Fortunate for you, one male and one female will get to be whisked off to the Capitol. After a week of training, interviews, and chariot rides, you'll start the Hunger Games. But for now, we're going to choose the Female tribute from District Five!"

Ida:

Caroline waves her hand around the bowl many times before diving deep into the names. I close my eyes as she pulls one name out of the bowl. After clearing her voice, she says the name.

"Ida Clayworth." she says in an oh-so-clear voice. I open my eyes and see if this is true. The blinding light shines into my eyes, causing me to squint. The light fades off to see that almost all of the other girls are looking at me.

"Ida? Where are you sweetheart? There's nothing to be afraid of! Come on out!" Caroline says into the microphone. She searches the crowd and when her eyes lock with mine, I can tell she knows it's me. I struggle to look confident as the cruel Peacekeepers grab me and drag me to the stage. I can't think. I can't speak. All that I can do is close my eyes.

Hero:

The beautiful girl looks as if she was told that she was in the Hunger Games. But she is. And that expression is no joke. She doesn't do any attempt to remove herself from the Peacekeepers grasping her forearms. She looks emotionless, and has no smile at all. The sunny pink belt around her waist is the complete opposite of what she looks like. Grim, is the word. She's gorgeous, no doubt, but if she doesn't begin to smile the sponsors will slowly drift away from her.

"Hello, Ida! Might I say that your dress looks magnificent!" Caroline chirps in an attempt to bring some life back to Ida. Ida looks like she's finally collected herself.

"Thanks," the strawberry blonde hardly managed to get out. "Yours looks nice too."

"Why thank you!" Caroline says, and I quick smile reveals her bold white teeth. "Onto the boys now!"

Caroline leaves Ida alone, and crosses over to our Reaping bowl. She smiles again, and prepares to draw out a name of someone whose odds were not in their favor. Plunging her arm in, she hesitates and waves her arm around before drawing a name. I take a deep breath as she clicks her way over to the podium.

"Hero Benedict!"

The words shock me. Yet I remain strong. That's what Brave and Justice would want, right? I make my way up to the stage as Caroline's voice says words that I can't pick up. Keeping my back straight and my face blank, I make myself up without a peep or a Peacekeeper. I'm in too much of a shock that all I can hear is my still breathing. The microphone is put in front of me, but I don't do a thing. Looking at all of the people, I see that they have calmed down and are shuffling around. Plenty of people are shifting their weight from one foot to another, as I stand tall. Looking to my left, I see that Ida has contained herself, finally, and is calming down. They grab Ida and I and we're off to say goodbye for quite possibly the last time.

Ida:

The boy and I are guided into the Justice Hall until we both go and are escorted into separate rooms. I crouch down and hold my face in my hands. How could this happen to me? The chances… they were hardly any! And I have to manage Marnie and Walter too! They can't take care of themselves! They're so young…

I am interrupted as Marnie and Walter burst through the doors. They're not crying, but more surprised than anything. Both fling their slender arms around my neck, giving me a tight squeeze. They let go, and immediately fill me with questions and advice. Not as if it will matter, anyways. I've practically been given a death sentence, and any word of advice that they give me won't matter in the end.

"Listen too us, Ida, alright? Walter and I had prepared a list in case you were ever reaped. I'm going to say them quickly, so listen up!" Marnie begins, reaching for a pocket in the back of her dress. She picks it out and de-crumples it, if that's a word.

"Don't step off the podium early!" Walter starts, reading off of a wrinkled piece of paper marked with the Capitol symbol.

"Don't ally with anyone. These are the Individual Games, after all. But don't trust anyone and don't ally. You'll do fine by yourself," Marnie says, gripping the paper as if it has her fate written on it.

"Don't give up!"

"Look for water as soon as you get in the arena."

"Don't care about the people that… you… um… take their lives from."

"Use what you have."

"Stay away from people who look deadly."

"Be quiet and clever."

"And Ida, if you do pass, then remember us. We love you with all our hearts, and without you're motherly figure, I don't know how we would be able to cope with life. We'll never forget you, and we hope you know that. We love you so much, Ida. Even Mom and Dad do. Don't give up, Ida. We believe in you." Marnie says, and soon enough, we're back to returning hugs. The Peacekeepers arrive, and I release. But I dread the thought that it might be the very last time that I do.

Hero:

"Hero!" Is the first thing that I fully hear. It's Brave's innocent voice, full of care and compassion. She gives me a hug, and smiles. Her baby teeth glisten with the afternoon sun shining in through the windows. I smile back at her and bend down to a point that we're at eye level.

"Bravery, I'm not going to be seeing you for a while. So be brave, like your name, and carry on. You'll be alright, okay? Listen to Justice, make sure that you love mother and father very much, and have fun, okay?" I ask, holding the six-year-olds hand. She nods and smiles, then gives me a warm hug. Her small body comforts me, and allows me to regain life. With one more final squeeze, I release, and she smiles again.

"Come back soon," she whispers into my ear. I smile, and I prop myself back up. I look into Justice' eyes, and they're full of concern and sorrow. She attempts to put on a smile, but it only leads to tears. She wraps her arms around my neck and gives me a hug. I hug her back, and we spend a couple of moments like this. Brave's feet stomp around the room, and Justice and I turn to look at her.

"You're her Hero, Hero. Without you, she's incomplete. I love you, Hero. Try your absolute hardest to come home soon." Justice mutters into my ear. Peacekeepers march into the room, picking up Brave and tearing apart Justice and I. She smiles and Bravery waves. I wave back and smile.

_You're her Hero, Hero. Without you, she's incomplete._

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**AN: You may have noticed that I changed the name of this story. It used to be called 'The Individual Games: SYOT', but it is now 'The Individual Games'. Remember the Sponsor System where I got the idea from a SYOT that I was reading and had a tribute in? Well it got taken down for being "too interactive". Since we have an identical sponsor system, I panicked and deleted the 'Sponsor System' chapter. But don't worry! It's on my profile, everything. Also, I now own all characters in this story. If you have any questions, PM me or just tell me in a review. I reply to all of them, just so you know. And if you didn't get a thank you for reviewing (you're a **_**Guest **_**or I forgot), I apologize. I appreciate your cooperation for all of this.**

**Thanks for all of the reviews. I hope we can make it to fifty soon, but that's up to you. Thanks! Review please!**

**Don't forget to check out my twitter also. ( FireBreadSnares).**

**Thank you for visiting my story. It really makes a difference when there are people who are reading what I write for entertainment and liking it. Thanks.**

**I have a poll up. Would you prefer a train ride or time with the stylists & Prep Teams? I don't know, and I'd like to hear from you.**

**Word count for this chapter: 3336**

**-FireBreadandSnares**

**BTW, I deleted the forum for this story. But I made a new one! The link is on my profile. It's called 'Real or Not Real?'. Also, check out my friend's forum, 'Hunger Games: They're Stories' by my friend Pax Cronin. :D**

**Bye! I'll update soon!**


	9. District Six Reapings

**AN: Hi! I'm just going to start talking now… (Brace yourself…) We're SO close to 50 reviews… :D! Thanks to all that have reviewed, favorite-d, or alerted. Just looking through all of it brings tears to my eyes. Hearing that my work is "great" is an honor. Thank you so much everyone! These tributes were from Pax Cronin (male) and d11olive- 13 (female). :D**

**Thanks for your patience… I appreciate it.**

**Disclaimer: The Hunger Games is not mine. I make no profit off of this. I do own the characters, however. DO NOT STEAL THEM! But I don't own The Hunger Games, sadly. It's Suzanne Collins'.**

**I also don't own Disney World or any part of The Disney Corp. I only own the characters in this. I practically own nothing!  
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Nick Poleos, 18, District Six, POV:

_I maintain the train, and the train's movements. Moving the gears is my job as train conductor. The train moves at a current 150mph, and after seeing that everything is all right, I take a seat. Taking a sip of what they call coffee, I relax in my soft, cushioned seat. The usual talks of various things are behind me. Pressure's right, speed is right, and all is good. I relax, and close my eyes. The slight mechanical sound blends in and I feel ease surge through my body. Only the sound of blood curdling screams sends waves of agony through my body. Getting a weapon ready and standing up, I reach for the doorknob only to have a masked figure open it. Wielding a weapon, all you can see is his turquoise eyes filled with fear and pain. He brings up his weapon, which I recognize as a gun, and shoots me in the chest. Falling back onto the controls of the train, my eyes flutter close and I take my last breath. My life flashes before me… The first day of school, meeting Kadin, watching the Hunger Games every year on television… But there's almost as if a voice calling my name… I recognize it, but cannot place a name… Instead my eyes flick open and I see my Dad._

"C'mon, Nick, wake up already." he says, not showing much concern. "I gotta go to the train station soon, and I'd like to see you in your very last reaping outfit."

Of course, my Dad has always been concerned about my well being every since the accident three years ago with Mom. Identical for what happened in my dream, Rebels had been trying to start up the revolution yet again. They tried to seize control of the train, but since every train has a Capitol representative, they couldn't exceed in their plans. "I'll be coming in a second. And don't worry. I'll be quick. You'll be able to see me."

But what he doesn't know is that it'll be the very last time he sees me for a couple of weeks. I've spent years thinking about it, and decided it was the only way to escape the district and memories. I haven't trained, but I know my way around a knife. The one thing that haunts me, however, is the dreaded thought of dying or taking someone's life from them. All the tributes… They're so innocent, even the eighteen-year-olds like me. We have so much potential, yet the Capitol takes it away from 25 of us each year. They call it entertainment, but how can they see it like that?

Soleil Lume, 13, District Six, POV:

Opening my eyes, the wooden ceiling stares back at me. The noise of trains charging past our home provides both a rumble and a feeling of comfort. Capitol hovercrafts are both coming in and going, due to the fact that we're the transportation district. Pulling the covers down, my clothes are ruffled and wrinkled. Glancing to my left, I see that the bed beside me is empty. No surprise, it belonged to my twin sister, Luna. Last year she was reaped, and as predicted, she died in the bloodbath. Things have never been the same since. Her and I were inseparable, my back up best friend. Except that changed when she was reaped. Only five slips of thousands, and it was her. After the chariot, she was put on the bloodbath list. I guess no one wanted to sponsor an innocent twelve-year-old who was outgoing and cheerful. Yet when she stepped foot into that arena… Well let's just say that she wasn't cheerful anymore. Whatever I do I can't seem to shake off that terrible moment where she bled to death…

Making my way to my feet, the home feels cold, but cozy. The furniture is always inviting, even though it may not be the greatest. Grabbing some sort of left over mush that I got from the terassea, I sit myself down and I begin to eat the lifeless 'food'. Father's probably already off to work, without a sound or word. Mother and I plead for him to not work as much, but it only increases the amount of hours that he puts in. It's unfortunate, really. He's really an amazing father, but I can just about know that he spends more time at the train station then here where he needs to be.

Mother walks in, breezing past me at the table. She looks for the brown mush that I'm eating, but doesn't realize that it's really me eating it. It takes her about thirty seconds before she actually cranks her head around and see's the table, the brown mush, and me. I'm used to it. Most people hardly notice me, even when I'm standing right by them. They say that I'm 'quiet' and 'shy', even though I'm certain that they aren't true. It just takes me a while. Ever since we had lost Lume, it's been hard for me to truly _bond _with anyone. I'm a keep observer, and I know that for sure. I take in every detail that I see. From the growing grey in my Mother's hair, to the irregular look of the mush today, I see everything, and a watch everything. If the time came that I ever was reaped, then I'm sure that it'll come in handy sometime.

Nick:

Grabbing my reaping clothes, I head over to the bath, where my Father had already prepared the water. Stripping down and sinking down into the tub, the warm water gently cleanses my skin. I scrub, trying to remove the dirt that's collected over time. I try to wash my hair, even though I don't have those fancy products that they have in the Capitol. Climbing out, I look more closely at what I grabbed. A blue t-shirt, but intertwined into it is a black tie from a rough fabric. I also grabbed some khakis. Tossing them on, I comb my dark hair back. Pleased with my appearance, I head out into the open. The snoring from my sister's bedroom tells me that she's still sleeping. Dad's sitting at the table, reading a Capitol newspaper that he always manages to swipe from the office. He quickly flicks up his wrist to reveal a piece of bread. Smirking slightly at my Dad's swift-fullness, I take it while walking towards and eventually seating myself down onto the hard, almost black, wooden chair. Careful not to stain my clothing or ruin the perfect nature of the bread, I rip it apart, smelling the flour and yeast. I savor every bite, as they mean so much.

Breakfast is fairly quiet, because my father, sister, and I have never been close. Well, not as close as I was to Mom. Lidius and Dad had a relationship almost identical to what Mom and I had. We were close, very close. But that awful day where she had decided to take the extra shift for someone sick… She was quite special, and I'm shocked of my recovery of her death. Each night, nightmares fill my head… and seemingly never leave. But that'll change today. The thing is, though, do I really want to escape from my home?

Soleil:

Mother gets herself something to eat, while I struggle to eat the final bits of the mush. The time is fairly quiet, and that doesn't bother me. After cleaning up my dishes, I proceed over to my bedroom where Mother had already set out my reaping outfit. A simple white blouse and grey skirt, it's something that I hadn't seen before. Not knowingly, I allowed a small smile to play across my face. Grabbing the clothing, I make my way to the bathroom. Washing my face, the cool water splashes onto my face, refreshing my skin. After stripping down and getting into my reaping clothes, I observe my looks. My ruby red locks are screaming to be put into braids, so I make a mental note to get mother to do that. I look untidy with my blouse not tucked in, so I quickly do that too.

Making my way back to my bedroom, a flash of silver shines into my eyes. Curiosity gets the best of me, so I step over to where I saw the flash. Sure enough, it's the silver bangle that my sister and I had. Sighing, I feel tears crashing down my face. How am I going to do this? We were best friends, even though we practically saw each other every second of our lives. Wiping the tears away, I pick up my black dress shoes and walk out of the door. Only once to I turn around, looking at the bangle, and continue back to the open.

"You look beautiful, honey. Do you want me to do your hair?" Mother asks, almost reading my mind. "I can do the braids that you and Lume had last year if you want."

"Okay." I say, Mother retrieving some small rubber bands. Her fingers expertly intertwine my hair into two pigtail braids. There's not a hair out of place, or as she says there isn't. Putting on my shoes, I get prepared to leave. Except, right before my foot takes a step out of the door, I remember the bangle. Quickly excusing myself, I run over to my room and get the bangle. Tossing it around my left wrist, I run back to the door and make my way down to the Reaping.

Nick:

After eating I get ready to leave. Checking my hair once again and getting my shoes on, I walk out the door. Shuddering slightly at the sound of the trains zooming by, the walk is a quiet one. Passing by the various homes, I see that the place is filled with more Peacekeepers than a normal Reaping day. Mothers and Father's are saying goodbye to their son's and daughters. Brothers and Sisters are saying goodbye like there's no tomorrow. And for one of them, it may be. One slip can change your life forever. Cut it short, even. Twenty-five people are going to die within the next two weeks. Twenty-five people that have a life ahead of them… Gone. I'm still not really completely sure why I'm even doing this. There's what, a four percent chance that I come home. But I'm afraid of what will happen in that other ninety-six percent. Death, of course. I want to escape from this place… But is volunteering the best idea?

Soleil:

The sun shines brightly above me. I've never really been fond of Reaping day, but come to think about it, who is? The Career districts, of course. They probably don't even have to worry. There's a volunteer every year, and even if you were reaped then you probably have enough training to stay out alive. I wonder what the arena is going to be like this year. I remember last year it was in a place long ago they called Disney World. There were cartoon mutts everywhere. There were these rides that could get you to other sectors of the arena, but there were horrible terrors that made the ride worthless. The only place that had water was the fountains at the cornucopia, where the Careers were. Those games were the bloodiest that I've ever seen. And my sister was trapped in them.

The Justice Hall is as inviting as ever, and I'm as scared as always. The prick on my finger hurts the most; I've never liked getting them. I place myself with the other thirteen-year-olds, and wait for the Reapings to start.

"Welcome young boys and girls! My name is Amarie Lodgepole, and I'm your escort for the 100th annual Hunger Games!" Amarie says, her yellow wig matching her skin, dress, and shoes. Only pink eye makeup draws attention away from the yellow and onto her almond shaped eyes. "As always, I'm very excited to be the Escort, especially since it's a Quarter Quell. Let's get things going and reap our female tribute!"

_Suddenly it all comes back to me. Clutching Luna's hand, closing our eyes, taking deep breaths. We both hear the paper slips moving around, the click-clack of her shoes along the stage, and the clearing of her voice from the Escort. "Luna Lume," is what we all hear. Our hands slip apart, and she makes her way up. Her silver bangle glistens in the light, making it look more valuable than it really is. For the remainder of the reaping, our eyes are locked together, and I can tell that we're both asking the same thing: What will I do without you? I remember saying goodbye, crying for hours, sobbing when she couldn't even wave or smile during the chariots, breaking down when she was interviewed, and falling apart when she was murdered. _

I remember all of it… And now it's happening all over again. Except it's not my sister going into the arena.

It's me.

Nick:

"Soleil Lume," the escort says, and all eyes turn to a small girl in the thirteen year old section. Her bright red hair is in two braids, and she slowly makes her way up to the stage. I remember her from last year. Their last names are the same, so they must be sisters or something. She's quite small, and looks like she could go by as a ten or eleven year old. Slowly making her way to the stage, she looks pale and about to weep. She'll have to sometime, right? She's going into the Hunger Games, and by the looks of it, she doesn't have much hope. I direct my attention to the male reaping bowl, and Amarie is already there, choosing a name. I stand tall and I clench my fists. This is the time. Now is the time to escape from here. And now, is the time that I volunteer.

"I volunteer!" I bellow out, startling the other guys. Proudly walking up to the stage, I put on a smile.

"And you are?" Amarie asks, tilting the microphone towards me.

"Nick Poleos, ma'am. Might I say your dress looks spectacular on you?" I say, trying to get on her good side.

"Well thank you, Nick. Shake hands, you two."

I gently shake the young girl's hand, careful not to hurt her before we're even into the arena. The Treaty of Treason is read, and I'm looking out at the crowd. They still look shocked, and it's probably because I'm the first volunteer for a while. Even before my grandfather, Pax Cronin, who won the 72nd Hunger Games, even before the rebellion. He died a couple of years ago, but I used to always go to him whenever I need advice. And I'm determined that'll be the next one, to carry on the legacy.

Soleil:

We're put into our goodbye rooms, and immediately my mother comes in. Her eyes are puffy, obviously from crying. I give her a hug, taking in all the things I'll miss about her. Her soft, warm hugs. The smell of her perfume that she had found in the market. Her caring words. I'll never experience them again. I release and she starts talking.

"Soleil, I'm really sorry. I knew I shouldn't have let you take the terassea. You can't give up! No matter how hard things get, don't loose hope. It is the only thing stronger than fear, and if you have it, then you can win. Don't forget to smile. Make them like you. You're an amazing girl, even though you may be quiet. I love you, Soleil. It means the sun, your name. And you can be brighter than all of the rest, and they're can't stop you. You're the victor, I know it. Don't give up, Soleil Lume. You're brighter than the rest!" she says, Peacekeepers already coming in. She doesn't fight them, she lets them take her.

_Hope is the only thing stronger than fear. And if you have it, then you can win._

_ It means the sun, your name. And you can be brighter than all the rest. They can't stop you._

I just hope what she says is true.

Nick:

They came and said goodbye. We were never close, but they still said I love you and goodbye. I know they've lost hope in me, and aren't really sure why I volunteered. But I volunteered because of here. I can't bear to live hear anymore, it has too much horrible things happening. Volunteering may be another form of committing Suicide, but escaping from here is the best option. It was fairly awkward with them, but they still said goodbye. I hugged them, and also said goodbye, but I know that they'll see me again. I'll be back soon, I hope. And even though I may die, I want to live happily. The idea of death scares me, but I know that if I try, then I'll be invulnerable. And then, I'm off to the Capitol. But one question roams my head the whole way.

Did I make the right choice?

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**AN: REALLY IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE IN THE NEXT CHAPTER!**

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**FireBreadandSnares**


	10. District Seven Reapings

**Guess what? I'm horrible. I haven't updated, for, like, ever. Enjoy this chapter, my wonderful readers! :D**

**Disclaimer: The Hunger Games is not mine! That belongs to the amazing Suzanne Collins, and all rights go to her. I own these characters, but not The Hunger Games. **

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Holand Quincy (District Seven), 16, POV:

_Step, step, pause. Step, pause. Step, step, step, pause. Glass breaking. A loud thud, similar to a person falling to the ground._

Those are the typical sounds that fill the eerie morning hours in my home. My father, an alcoholic, has been drinking again; I remember the sounds from countless nights before. Groaning slightly, I trudge through the room, in an attempt to locate my passed-out father. The bold smell of pine trees is quickly replaced by the heavy and overwhelming smell of vodka, my Father's favorite drink. Taking a deep breath and moving the shards of glass away, I pick up my father and carry him into the room beside mine. It's not great, but it's substantial for him and I. Placing him on top of the double bed that used to be what comforted my mother, I observe him. A tall man, he really had never been much of a 'father' figure. I despise him; he hasn't done anything to help himself or me. I've been the one, the one that does all of the work to practically keep us alive all this time. How things would be different if she never worked over time that dreadful day… With that in mind, I drag my tired body back to bed. I get back in, and pull the smooth covers up to my chin. I close my eyes, expecting sleep to take over my body, but instead the complete obvious happens. Groaning, I push the covers off, leaving me only in my boxers and thin undershirt. Tossing on a pair of old dark blue jeans and a red plaid shirt, I slip on some sturdy brown shoes and begin walking into town.

Arriving at the station for the logging, I check in and grab my axe. The sturdy handle has aged and been used plenty of times, but I don't mind. Walking out of the door, I proceed over to the sector that's been chosen to have the trees be cut down. After being motioned to a tree, I get my stance ready. Getting a firm grip on the axe, I look at where I want to hit and I begin to swing. It takes all of my strength just to have a small impact on the tree, as it crushes the bark and cuts into the inner. Preparing myself once again, I swing with all my might, and the tree slowly begins to tilt away from me. Preparing for the final swing, my axe fires at the tree, causing it to tumble down. The others are ready, and they all grip the tall tree. The motor of the chainsaw revs on, to begin cutting the tree into smaller chunks. Beads of sweat begin on my forehead, and I can tell that it's going to be a hot day. Not that it really matters, though. Reapings will be over soon enough, and I'll be back home soon enough, back to my life of cutting down trees and trying to cope with my drunken father.

Daelyn Peak, 15, District Seven, POV:

They seriously had to make it today. My fifteenth birthday. They had no other option. They're out to get me, I know it. Wait, they're not out to get me. They're out to get all of us. For rebelling. How much more stupid can they get? Our death is entertainment. How do they find death entertaining? You cheer on your favorites and you cry when they die! It's sick. Oh, now I remember. They're careless. Whatever the 'Mockingjay' did wasn't enough. She couldn't have done anything else. I heard she had children, but one day she just disappeared off the face of the planet. Took her family, and simply vanished. No one's heard from her since. That, of course, gave the Capitol power once again, and look here! The games have started. And the day of the Reaping just _had _to be on my birthday. Brushing my thoughts away, I trudge over to the cabinet, tucking a stray hair behind my ear. Grabbing my Reaping clothes, I quickly go get changed, then go over to the kitchen. Dylan's already down there, eating some sort of meat. Grabbing some, I eat it faster than the speed of light. I wait a little for Dylan to wish me Happy Birthday, but he's probably too busy with his life to remember about mine. I French braid my hair, a rich hue of brown. I look for my Dad, but quickly remembering that he's on tree duty today. I've overheard him saying that he always tries to talk to a boy named Holand, but is "too bitter" to say anything with a smile. That's my father, always trying to bring out the good in everyone.

I make my way out, going over too the town square without a word. My family has always never been too close to each other; we've all been going our own ways. Sometimes I think that they really don't care about what happens to us. But I banish those thoughts as soon as they arrive in my mind. The walk is a trek, that's for sure. We live on the outer edge of the district, away from most of the trees and markets. But it's far enough that the Capitol leaves us alone, so that's good enough for me. But there are something's that I do wish for. For the Capitol to die.

Alora Fedae, 28, District Seven Escort, POV:

Ahhh, Reaping day. One of the most wonderful days of the year. I love it; it's always been an enchanting surprise for whose going to be the new tributes for this spectacular Quarter Quell. As a young girl, I had always watched the Hunger Games each year. Every year, I rooted for the District Seven tributes to win. I was always wanting to smell the trees, and climbing the trees. If they only won more often, then maybe they could teach me…

_One day, one of them will, and I'll finally be able to climb the trees with them and smell the woody atmosphere. _

I know it'll never happen, but I always like to think that it will. I was taught at a young age to look at the bright side, and I have ever since.

_My wig looks just dashing today!_

I smile. Being a fashion icon has never been easy, but it's certainty been entertaining. It's another things that makes the Capitol stand out. I can't resist smiling whenever the Capitol fills my thoughts; the place is spectacular and unfortunately only twenty six tributes get to see it for a little while.

"Miss Fedae, we need you to get ready for the Reaping," a Peacekeeper says, opening the door for me. I personally don't like the Peacekeepers; they seem too strict and tough. The Districts can't do anything that bad, can they? Sighing, I walk out of my room. I'm guided through the Justice Building, until the smell of pine trees intoxicates me. I've always wanted to smell it, the bold smell invigorating my senses. Closing my eyes, I stop walking. Taking a deep breath, I open my eyes, and see that all eyes of District Seven are on me. I smile; it's impossible not too. My parents are going to be watching, their little girl has finally grown up.

"Welcome all! I am Alora Fedae, your district escort this year. I am _so _excited to be the escort; it's an amazing opportunity that I could have never passed. Let's not forget! Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in _your _favor." They don't say or do anything, only maintain their blank faces. "Let's start with the boys!"

I walk over to boys reaping bowl, where they're still as a stone. I take my golden glove off, the sun beating down on my delicate skin. Sinking my hand into the slips, I take one. This one seems lighter than the others, but I don't mind. After all, who'd be upset about being in the Hunger Games? I've certainty always wanted to be.

A quick movement allows me to open up the envelope. Excitement fills my body. It's been 100 years of Hunger Games already! We've been through so much! We've even had two victors one year and none the next! But for now, let's stick with the present and see who's the male tribute of District Seven in the 100th annual Hunger Games.

"Holand Quincy!"

From the crowd, there's a tall boy emerging. He doesn't break down or shake like most others, he stands tall. He looks like he came straight from the trees. His dirty blond hair is scrunched up and dirty, while his plaid shirt and scrunched up jeans are worn down from days of use. He's tall and appears to have a strong build. I make my way over to the edge of the stage, ready to welcome him. Within a matter of seconds, he's over on stage with me, yet his emotions have not changed at all. "Onto the girls!"

As I did prior, I take off my glove and dip it into the bowl. I randomly choose one, but sometimes I do wonder if it truly is random. Shrugging slightly, I read the name that's put down.

"Daelyn Peak!" Almost immediately, two girls start sobbing. There's one in the middle, which I believe is Daelyn. The two girls crying cling onto Daelyn, but there's no use. The Peacekeepers come and grab Daelyn. Her honey brown eyes show fear, something that I never quite understood. As before, I welcome her onto the stage. Her friends are still sobbing; so much that the Peacekeepers had to take them away from the crowd. The mayor reads the Treaty of Treason, and I get the two to shake hands. Daelyn is still shaking, complete opposite from Holand, who seems as if it would be nice to get out of District Seven. He's still standing tall. He doesn't smile at all, just has a bitter look on his face. I proceed to bring them to their goodbye rooms, and I go back to mine. This Quarter Quell will be an interesting mix. And I know that all of Panem will be delighted.

Holand:

He isn't going to show up, I know it. He's probably too busy passed out for saying goodbye to me. Hell, he probably won't even realize that I'm gone for weeks to come. But at least I can escape. I'll never have to chop a tree down again. I'll never have to smell alcohol ever again. I'll never have to deal with this place anymore. I'll never have to be neglected everyday, practically sentenced to a teenage life of nothing. Making myself comfortable, I dream of what life could be like if I did win.

_"No! Get away from me! I never want to see you again! I won! I can live away from you! I can escape from here! I can go away from here! Get away from my face! You can die alone, as far as I'm concerned!" I scream in his face, the lingering smell of vodka fills my nostrils. I never I'd have to smell it again, but I guess I have to. I'm in my old home, and only steps away from the bedroom where I escaped from sanity. He stumbles back._

_ "Well I guess I'll never have to deal with you worthless piece of life ever again!" He says, falling against the floor. The new house sounds like a good idea, so I make my way over there. I finally relax there, never having to worry about cutting down a tree or paying for my Father's drinking habit. I can finally sit back and be worry free._

Oh yes, that's the life. But sometimes simply dying sounds good too.

Daelyn:

Jenni, Jackie, and Isabel burst in. Only Isabel has the courage to stay strong, not to weep in my arms. All three wrap their arms around me, into a crushing hug. I don't want to let go, I don't want to. It's been a hard life, but more than I could ever want. Uncontrollably, I begin to feel hot tears go down my face. How could they, just take innocent children like mine's life away? What makes it so entertaining? It's a terror, and I'm trapped in it with no way out. I'm trying to flee somewhere else, but I cannot. I am trapped, I am trapped. I can't control my pain, it's almost unbearable. I let go to them, considering that I'll never see them again for a very long time. Maybe I'll be able to live, but we all know that isn't happening.

"All of you, live your lives. Don't let me drag you down, you're going to be amazing people one day. You're all strong and brave, never deny it. You can succeed, I'll see it one day. But for now, laugh, love, and live. But I ask one thing. Never forget me, please. I'm sure I'll see you soon, but for now, live your lives for me. Have fun. Smile. Be what you want to be. Love yourselves, and others. I'll be there every step of the way, even though it'll be mentally, not physically." I say, tears flying down my face. Jenni takes off her simple silver locket, and gives it to me. I grip it and smile as they're taken away. They all wave and cry at the same time. They are all wonderful people, I wish that this never happened. But I'm trapped, I'm trapped in an invisible cage. And there's no way out for a very long time.

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**AN:**

**-Life happens, school started, swimming started (I get home at 7! Plus homework… Ugh…), and my writing time is WAY less. BUT, not as long wait for this, because I got a severe case of writers block. :P**

**-I got EIGHT reviews last time! I'm so proud. :D. If you were wondering, every review is three sponsor points, and they **_**will **_**be needed. If you know what I mean…**

**-Thanks for your patience… It's all I can ask for. **

**-Poll… Vote… You know what to do!**

**-Chapter Three is now my FAQ, so check that out to your heart's desire. That was the new chapter, in case you were confused.**

**-Did you like the escorts POV? I like writing POVs from a Capitol citizen… :D**

**-I promise that I'll make the authors notes shorter. I just have so much to say…**

**Yours truly,**

**FireBreadandSnares **


	11. District Eight Reapings

**AN: Happy Wednesday everyone! Enjoy! :D**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games. It's Suzanne Collins. I make no profit at all.**

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**Esmee Porter, (District Eight), 18, POV:**

They say that the world was a place where there was peace. Where the Hunger Games were unheard of, where the Capitol was never there. Where it is safe. They say that it was amazing. But they also said that it was like that over 125 years ago. I would love for it to still be like that, to still have it perfect. But that hasn't happened yet. It had only very few years ago, but by now it's crumpled apart. They simply don't realize what they're doing to us. Taking away perfectly innocent children, ones who have no idea what they have ahead of them. My family and I have always been passionate about helping the less fortunate than us. After all, my Father is the mayor of District Eight. We always make it one of our top initiatives to help the poor. They're barely keeping themselves alive, let alone tidying themselves for the Reaping. If I had to, I would volunteer for one of them. They deserve to be given a chance to live and get back on their feet, not rich girls like me who have almost everything ready at a single signal. So to basically sum it up, I would let myself die to let one of them have a chance to live.

The crisp breeze blows around District Eight, my home. It's cozy, sure enough. But many secrets lie within District Eight that the Capitol doesn't know about. We're the one District that isn't very open about our daily lives, yet we make every Capitol outfit. It amazes me, really. But then again, it really never did surprise me. I walk as I think this. The amber Sun shines horizontally, creating only a crack of real light… Just how I like it. It's the perfect day, really. But that all applies if Reaping turns out well. And there's still a chance of that.

**Lachlan McKay (District Eight), 12, POV:**

The icy breeze keeps me awake for hours. It's cool and unwelcoming, but relaxing in my bed feels so much better. Shouldn't my parents waking me up by now? Shouldn't I be bathing Leela, my two-year-old sister? Shouldn't I be getting ready for my very first Reaping? All of these questions boom in my head as I work up the courage to get out of bed. Leela still looks to be sleeping in the room across from mine. A slight grin plays across my face, but I quickly wipe it off. I pass by photos of my Mother, my Father, and Leela. Sadly, I'm not there. I had always been viewed as a disappointment. I never fully understood why. Was it my friends? I once thought so. Honestly, they hated me. They still kinda do. I was once pushed to my limits one day. I wanted to die. I was a disappointment, so why not? They wouldn't care. They wouldn't be upset. And I just about did. I had everything ready. That's when my mother went into birth. I was dragged to the hospital, leaving my suicide in the dust. Hours and hours passed, and I got more and more desperate to return home and… Die. But she came. Leela Alina McKay. I loved her from the moment I saw her. Her delicate fingers, her buttery-soft skin and her beautiful, big brown eyes. She was the reason that I'm alive. There was something inside of me that turned off the suicide mode and turned on the life mode. Practically, she's the one that's kept me going all this time.

**Esmee:**

The beautiful weather inspired me to go for a stroll around my district, so that's what I do. Being the mayor's daughter, I'm only minutes if not seconds away from the Justice Building, where Peacekeepers are busy setting up for the Reaping. Shortly after getting out of the area, I see many people that are moving around. Little six-year-olds and older ones are always moving around, and I can't help but smile. They don't know what kind of place they're living in yet.

My walk concludes with a trip over to the only field in the middle of District Eight. It isn't the most popular during work hours, but during the other times, it's buzzing with activity. Right now, there are few people there, mainly just adults that managed to escape for a few minutes. Mainly everyone smiles and waves, but sometimes I wonder if it's really because of my father's career or me. Probably a bit of both. Seating myself on the grass, I see the sunrise. I don't normally do this everyday, but on my last Reaping, I think I can. By now, Father's probably helping direct the Reaping, directing Peacekeepers or setting up ropes or chairs.

As I return home, I confirm my thoughts. Father is getting things ready. He waves slightly before placing some ropes down; a warm smile puts itself on his face. I've always wondered what's behind that smile. Another cruel Capitol person? Or a loving man trapped into a job to keep his family safe? I'll go with the latter.

After quickly stuffing some breakfast into my mouth, I get changed into my reaping clothes. I'm usually dressed pretty well, but today I'm dressed especially good. After all, you only get seven reapings, right? I quickly push that thought out of my mind as soon as it arrives. It makes me sound like a Capitol citizen, something that I _never _want to be. Plus, it makes me forget of the many teenagers from District Eight that die in the Hunger Games anyways, something that haunts my soul now and forever.

**Lachlan:**

"Lachlan! Get yourself ready instead of daydreaming!" Mother screams from downstairs. Of course, she's stressed out. It's my very first reaping and she couldn't be more nervous… Well, I think that she is. Maybe. I don't know. Doing as I was told to do, I quickly get changed. Stumbling and almost falling down the stairs, I barely manage to get myself down in time. Mother grumbles as she tries to force some food into Leela, only making it worse when I walk down.

"Locky!" she cries out, flailing her arms. 'Locky' is her nickname for me, because Lachlan is obviously harder for her. I approach her, and as soon as I get there her arms lock around me. She squeezes hard, rocking me side to side like her baby rattle. I can't help but grin. She doesn't know what kind of day it is today.

_Of course she doesn't know! She's only two!_

I peel her arms off me. That girl's got a death grip on me, even though she's hardly two. I grab some meat-like substance off of the table. It looks disgusting, and it most likely is. But it's the best we can get, so I eat it with a straight face. As I'm putting my plate away, Leela again calls out to me. I put the plate down, and walk over to her. Her face is still covered in muck, but it makes her cuteness soar sky high. She reaches her short, chubby arms out at me, as if she wants another hug. Instead, she places her warm, soft hands on my cheeks and pulls me toward her so that my right ear is by her mouth.

"I love you," she whispers.

**Esmee:**

Stepping once again out to the outdoors, I begin my last walk to the Reaping. The children I saw running around before are now in their homes. The women and men of District Eight that waved to me are not waving anymore. They're instead filled with worry and sadness. How must the Capitol be feeling right now? The Districts are having their reaping, and it's the start of another Hunger Games. The 100th one, might I add. They're probably getting so excited, while we're here worrying about the future of their children. Considering my Father's job, Town Square isn't far away. Strangely, though, I am one of the last to get there.

_Everyone must be worrying._

Capitol logos fill the town square, along with Peacekeepers too. People are buzzing with activity, like my Father, who's currently ushering some children to the gates. The Escort, who's inspecting her wig in a compact mirror. Children, who are nervously talking to friends and others around them. Husbands, trying to comfort their wives, who are shaking nervously. But that all goes to a stand still when the screech of the microphone quiets the crowd.

"Welcome, District Eight, to the Reaping for the 100th annual Hunger Games," the escort chirps. She's always been a friendly lady, I've met her a couple times before. For a Capitol citizen, she isn't as bad as I thought she'd be. But I don't know what happens beyond that. "May the odds be _ever _in your favor!"

"As standard, let's start with the ladies!"

Of course, I'm not really worried. I'm eighteen, I'm the mayor's daughter, and I don't take the terassea. Although I would volunteer for one of the younger kids, because they deserve to live more than I do. But if my name were really called out, if I was really chosen to be tribute, would anyone volunteer for me?

**Lachlan:**

Leela and I's moment cost 'Valuable time', so we're left in a hurry to get to the Reaping. We arrive in a nick of time, and I'm checked in right as I arrive.

"Welcome, District Eight, to the Reaping for the 100th annual Hunger Games," she cheers. In the corner of my eye, I see that Mother is shuffling through the crowd, trying to find a somewhat decent place to watch the Reaping. "_ever _in your favor! As standard, let's start with the ladies!"

There's a slight murmur that quickly shuts down when the escort's hand drops down into the bowl. She doesn't hesitate; she instead quickly grabs one.

"Esmee Porter!"

_I know her. She's the Mayor's daughter. She's that one who always is trying to help, even though sometimes it doesn't come off as well as she'd expect. _

Esmee looks up at the Mayor and I do too. He's crying. This can't look good to the Capitol. The Mayor is crying because _his _daughter is going into _the _Hunger Games. All of a sudden, Esmee begins to cry. Behind the tears I can see much more - worry, mortification, terror.

**Esmee:**

I-I-I-I-I-It can't be me. I'm the Mayor's daughter! I'm never chosen for these! I'm not _supposed_ to be chosen. I look up to see my father, grabbing his handkerchief and wiping the tears from his face. At that moment I can't contain my emotions anymore. I begin crying and I feel unbearable pain. I stumble towards the stage, but Peacekeepers grab me and I'm being carried up there.

They set me down on the stage, but my legs crumple from the pressure and I curl up into a ball.

"Get out, I can do this myself!"

"Esmee, I know you're upset. But we need you to stand up, all right? Thing things that you do now will impact you later in the Games…" the Escort says. For once, I agree with a Capitol citizen and put on a small smile. I slowly get up, steading myself. I make a small attempt to smile, and wipe away the tears. I bottle my emotions up again, and pretend that I'm going to a better place. Which I will be. Maybe.

I can't even get up the energy to listen to who gets reaped. I just stand there, shake hands, and am taken inside the Justice Building.

**Lachlan:**

Esmee stands up, and puts on an unsuccessful smile. She shakes as she moves up, but eventually balances herself. I take a deep breath as the Escort trots over to the Reaping ball. This time, she takes her time to choose a slip.

_Hopefully not mine._

"Lachlan McKay!"

And of course, I'm wrong.

**Esmee:**

They take me into a small room where my Mother, Father, and sister walk in. We're all in a hug, and I never want to let go at all. Sadly, I have to depart from them. I have to go to the place I thought I'd never see, the Capitol. I have to _kill_ children younger than me… _Kill them._ And just a few short hours ago, I was busy smiling and waving to them. And now, they'll be watching the Mayor's daughter die in front of millions.

"Esmee, don't worry. I'll get everyone in Eight to sponsor you. You'll be coming out of there, no matter what. I know that you're worrying. But you don't realize that there's a fire inside of you. There's something that can ignite in you. You're the one that _will _win. You just need to see that." my Father says, sniffing in between words.

"Oh Dad… I'm going to miss you," I say. He replies to this by giving me a small hug. I can't help but smile, yet continue crying. My Father, he meant so much to me, and now he's taken away.

"Gia, you'll be the main daughter of the family. Take care, alright?" I say to Gia, turning to her. She nods with her head down, avoiding eye contact. She's never been much of a talker, but she shows a lot of her inner emotions through her body language. Just another person that's been tore away from me.

"Mother, don't cry," I say. She has tissues in her hand, and struggles to stay somewhat calm. "I know you're sad, but I'll be in a better place soon. Don't forget that, alright?"

"Alright," is all that she manages to get out.

"Alright. I love all of you, okay? Enjoy yourselves, and be who you want to be. I love all of you. Take care."

With that last part, the Peacekeepers take away my family.

Few things keep me alive in this world. You might think of the normal things. Food, a home, clean water. But those don't really keep me going day-to-day. It's my family. The smiles that greet me where I go. Genuine hugs and laughter from my friends. But the Capitol takes all of that away from me. Simply rips it away from me, and I'll practically never experience it again. The Hunger Games is what caused that. I'll fall apart in a couple of days, deprived from the things that truly make me happy. But I know that sometime soon I'll be in a much better place, where I'll have all of those things. How is it entertainment? Taking these things away from people like me? How? How is it entertaining the way that they take what means most to us away?

Something's I will never know.

**Lachlan:**

Leela. Leela. Innocent and fragile. She's still too young to understand the whole 'Hunger Games' thing, but she will when she's older. Will she even remember me? Will she remember what kind of relationship we had? How I depended on her and she depended on me? Will she know how she changed me? Will she know how she saved me? I can't think of an answer that I agree with. Sometimes, you don't get an answer that you agree with. Sometimes, your life is so messed up and so shaken that the little things really save you. You may not see it at first, but you'll see it someday. You have to stop focusing on the big things, and look at the small things. Even though it may take some effort, you'll see them. It took me a while to see it, but I did. I saw that the world it a cruel, unfair place. I saw that a careless government that uses our deaths as entertainment is using us. But I also saw my baby sister. I saw her smile. Her laughter. The way her face lights up whenever someone walks in. The way that she cares for you. Even though she may be young, she's probably the most caring little girl in the world. It took me a while to see that, but I finally did. Now, I do. I see it fully and clearly. Better than I ever have, and ever will.

The little things save you in life. It may take a while to see, but it'll happen. And I know that more than anyone else.

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**AN: What'cha think? It probably isn't my best, but I like it. These tributes were kinda hard to write for, because they're alike, yet different. :)**

**-Poll - I closed the one for Train Rides/Stylists. I'm going to do Train Rides, considering that was the one most voted for. I'll be doing 2-3 POVs in one chapter, and the order that comes in for this poll will be the order of POVs. Again, please vote, and thank you for voting! :D**

**-I think this is the longest chapter I've ever written… Wow.**

**-REVIEW -It makes me happy and gives me some good feedback. :D**

**-IF YOU ARE HAVING DIFFICULTIES REVIEWING, YOU CAN PM ME YOUR REVIEW AND I'LL ADD IT, OR YOU CAN DO IT AS A GUEST. I was doing some changes, and I took out a chapter, so I kinda screwed it up. D**

**-I make changes ****OFTEN to the layout of the story (like, chapters and stuff), so if you see that it looks like I posted the same chapter again, then look at the chapter titles and you might see what you missed… Or didn't miss, in this case. :D**

**Thanks!**

**FireBreadandSnares**


	12. District Nine Reapings

**Hello! Sorry it took me to long to update. I think that it's really good, though. :D**

**One thing that I'd like to address is the rating of this story. Roketi's POV should be rated M, but I chose not to change the rating due to the fact that the story is mostly T, not M. I actually cut out a lot of the pieces because I was worried that it might be a bit too graphic and/or intense. Just a little warning for future chapters and this one.**

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games. All rights go to Suzanne Collins, not me. I make no profit, I only do this for fun.**

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**Roketi Mauluga-18-District Nine-POV:**

If you could run away, would you? If you could just be free of any troubles that surround your life and drown you in its control. Would you? How about this. What if you could change your life? Rewind time, perhaps. Start with a clean slate. Nothing had ever happened yet, mistakes didn't happen, lifestyle hadn't been like it is now… Well, nothing really happened yet. You were clear to start all over, from the very beginning, if that's what you really wanted. To say it as simple as I can, to be _free _and escape from everything_, _would you?

I would. I would go, if I really could.

I would start things over. I would save my Mother from my Father's particularly hard punches. Kicks. Fingers. Cuts. Words. Pure abuse. I'd take her away from him; save her from the man she so calls 'the brightest star in her universe'. How could she love him? The man that sucks all of the life out of her… Then loves her later? So delicate, so fragile. She was like a smooth berry. Just the slightest puncture will ruin the element of it. The true beauty element. Of course, to me, my Mother was always a beautiful woman, bruises or not, but there was something that he took from her. She wasn't the same when after that moment when he came through the door, alcohol in his hand, fist balled up. It went straight across her face, just as she was coming in for a kiss. She had fell back to the ground, fear studded into her subtle eyes. That fear never really left. After that, he said some things that I can't say. Things that terror me. After that, he repeatedly just hit her. Over and over and over and over again. He even cut her cheek. My fingers trace over to there, but then quickly slide back down. When she finally had enough - no, when she was more done - he came over to me, and did the exact same thing. After that, he went outside. For a smoke, probably. He left my Mother and I there to die, practically. It's remarkable that we survived. But not for long. A year later, it happened again. This time, harder, longer, and about a hundred times worse than what happened before. But she couldn't bear any longer. She couldn't withstand the lashes she received from him. The things that I shouldn't have seen. She was never strong, but never weak. She just hit her breaking point that pushed her off the ledge. The life spilled out of her, while I was clutching onto her hand, begging for her to last just a little longer.

That exact same thing happens everyday. The same schedule, time after time. I can't run away, I'm too infamous for people to let me slip out of their thoughts. I can't be free. I can't run away from the place many call 'home'. I'm chained here, and they destroyed the key that unlocks me. I can't escape from here, and that's the thing that I want to do so desperately.

**Zia Fertilis-15-District Nine-POV:**

I had another dream about him. From the very moment of his name being drawn to the second he was decapitated. It played over and over and over again, like a song that gets stuck in your head. Except this time, it's a horrific memory from the past that won't remove itself from my head. Trapped inside, taunting me at every single moment it has. Last night was probably one of the worse times. I was screaming every second of the dream, yet no one came to comfort me. Probably because I've been considered a failure every since my birth. Was it because I'm not popular? I'm not an over achiever? Or is it simply because I didn't turn out how they wanted? It's probably the last one, knowing my stupid luck.

Groaning, I make an attempt to wake myself up. With no success, I just sit back down. I look across the field, and Shaun's house is there. I remember just two years ago, we were cracking jokes just moments before he was reaped. We were only thirteen. He had so much potential in this stupid world, but was cut so short. He was sweet, caring, opinionated, and most of all, loyal. He actually had a chance, I must say. He had a steady flow of sponsors, and he even made it to the final nine. Pretty impressive for someone who hadn't even held a knife before. But that stupid girl from two. I had a funny feeling that he shouldn't have allied with her. I guess he didn't have that funny feeling too.

Forcing my tears back, I stand up. I also get changed into my reaping clothes, a plain green dress. I actually don't care if I get reaped or not, many people are surprised that I haven't been reaped yet. Right, I should probably explain that. Here in District Nine, they call me a troublemaker. For what reason, you may ask. Probably because I've been described as rebellious, sarcastic, annoying… The list goes on, and on and on and on and on and on. But you get my point. Truth is, I probably am, but I like to think that I'm not.

"Zia, you up?" my brother Graze asks.

"Yeah, whadda want?" I ask. This is what usually happens every morning. He knows that he gets on my nerves, but he doesn't care. He's just an idiot like that.

"Just to say hi. Can't someone say that to you anymore? You seriously have some sort of mental problem-" as he says this, he turns away, but I can see a slight smirk on his face.

"I do not!" I say giving him the worst scowl _ever_.

"Ha, where's your proof?"

"Where's _your _proof?"

"Zia, I'm not doing this again, alright? Just get ready for the Reaping, alright?"

**Roketi:**

Lying back onto the soft and comforting grass, I close my eyes and let the rising sun warm up me. Often times, I stay here to relax, to cry, to smile. But mostly the first two. Usually my father doesn't know that I'm here, but if he's particularly eager then he'll scout out to find me. Sometimes, the peace and serenity is all that I need. The gentle floating around is all that I hear-

"ROKETI! Where are you, you useless piece of?!" the alcoholic asks. I didn't catch the last part, thankfully. Or maybe I just chose not to hear it. I quickly look back. There he is. A bottle of whiskey, his clothes dirty. His hair is matted and ugly, if that. He has a small stumble of his step. This has never happened. This doesn't happen. This isn't _supposed _to happen. He isn't _supposed _to be here. Getting to my feet, I look at my surroundings.

_Alright. Trees left and right. My Father is up ahead. Behind me, there is just trees. I can't go left. I can't go right. I can't go backwards. I have to go forward._

With that, I bolt forwards, dodging various plants and flowers that loom ahead of me. He can already see where I'm trying to go. He pulls out his knife. The long, slender blade reflects the sun and causes me to squint. I stop, rubbing my eyes. I know that I don't have long, but I still take longer than I should have. When I finally see clearly, he's there. A twisted smirk lies on his face, and I am instantly frightened. I refuse to believe that this is the end of Roketi Mauluga. I refuse to let myself die under his hand. I refuse to die at the age of eighteen. And I won't. My mind goes into survival moment as I give him a punch in the face. He stumbles back, and I take the valuable moment to my advantage. I sprint past him, and know that I've saved myself from certain death. Running is all that is on my mind. Just running. Far, far away. Far enough to give me some time to collect myself and escape before he tries to kill me again. Far enough to keep myself safe. Just, _far away._

I made my way over to my home, where I sink down on to my bed. I tuck my legs to my chest and cry. I cry because I'm sad. Because I'm lonely. Because I have no friends. Because I don't have a mother. Because I don't have a family. Because I'm depressed. Because I can never escape him.

I just cry.

**Zia:**

I do as Graze says and I get ready. When I go, everyone gives me dirty looks and I just mirror it back. If they want to play that game, then we'll play that game. Nothing better than to feel like you're unwanted on Reaping Day. You might as well volunteer, but I don't want to. You gotta keep yourself alive, right? Right.

I arrive at Reaping. I never really liked the Reaping, the Games, or the Capitol. I mean, what's the point? Who finds blood entertaining? I sure don't. Especially when I saw Shaun's blood on the Careers' hands... The Reaping starts and I start my daily tune out. I play a song in my head, the comfort song of District Nine:

_The sun will set and night will fall,_

_But my love will never disappear._

_I will always be near,_

_For you above all._

But I won't be comforted for long. Her hand crashes into the bowl, and I hold my breath.

"Zia Fertilis!"

And things will never be comfortable anymore.

**Roketi:**

I unwrap myself and I toss on a clean shirt. I do some more running to the Reaping, arriving right on time. Although the sound of death isn't that bad, being brutally killed by a bloodthirsty career does. My ears perk up when I hear the words, "Let's start with the girls!" The escort, dressed in a baby blue dress and a matching wig clicks over to the bowl.

"Zia Fertilis!" I know who it is. We're both kind of 'infamous', to say the least. She has a bad attitude and doesn't cooperate, while I have an anger issue and fight on the street. Apparently her best friend died in the Hunger Games two years ago. But I guess I'll never really know.

The first thing I notice about her is her long, thick auburn hair. It's tied up into a ponytail, the way that it normally is when I see her. She's tall and slender, about 5'6 and 100 pounds. I never really paid attention to her, but I guess that no I have no choice.

There are a few quick words to each other, and then the escort has an ugly scowl on her face. She looks really quite mad. I wonder what she said. But I don't really pay attention until she reaps one more unlucky person.

"Roketi Mauluga!"

Me.

**Zia:**

That kid scares me. He's always looking for a fight… _always._ A little bird told me that he has an abusive father. Of course, my curiosity gets the best of me, and I did a bit of investigating. I saw him, punching the kid. Kicking him. Slapping. It was just horrible. The kid was there, slowly dying. And just when you thought that it would get worse, it did. It got real bad, real fast. I couldn't watch it all. My heart wanted me to go in there, but my brain warned me and told me not too. I went with the latter and disappeared without a peep.

He has dark brown hair, and green eyes. He's pretty strong actually. Or so it looks like he is. In the arena, I'll be looking out for him. He looks like he could be pretty lethal… Or so he is. Maybe he's just a big ol' softie who really just wants a friend.

But I highly doubt that.

We're told to shake hands and that's what we do. His hands are soft and warm, sending chills down my spine. Yep, he's the one that I'm not going to trust. Along with the Careers too, but I know that it's easy to get attached to one of the only people from home. And I'm as sure as hell that I won't let that happen.

**Roketi:**

Today, I was given a golden opportunity. How? I was chosen to participate in the 100th Annual Hunger Games. Not many people call being a Tribute a 'Golden Opportunity'. But when you have an abusive father, no mother, no friends, no family, and no love, you'd call it a golden opportunity too. I don't care about him. I never did, actually. He could have died and I might have smiled.

I might have.

But it really isn't a golden opportunity. I think it is now. I think that there's nothing better. But it really isn't. I'll regret saying 'Golden opportunity'. You just wait. Maybe it'll be sooner than you think. Maybe later.

Maybe.

But I can run away.

I can be free.

I can live with my Mother, the only person that I know I love.

I can live with no worries. Or black eyes, for that matter.

I can lay in the field for as long as I want.

I can finally escape.

_Finally_.

**Zia:**

You know, I never really thought of the possibility of being a Tribute. Yes, it had crossed my mind a few times but I never really spent some time of my life thinking of what would happen. Now, I'm forced to do that. I'm forced to put my mind into survival mode. Into killing mode. Into modes that I probably never thought have but am going to have to. I know that I'll die. But I want to see their blood on my hands before I do. I want them to feel the pain that I did when they killed Shaun. I want to have that feeling of accomplishment. Shaun probably would not approve, but I do. I may not be Victor, but they won't be either.

I have to avenge Shaun's death. And I'm going down fighting until I do that.

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**AN: A**** good song to go with this chapter (Especially Roketi's first POV): Turning Tables by ADELE**

**YAY! We're so close to finishing the reapings… Kinda. I'm trying to make an effort to get them done sooner, because at this rate, the story is likely to get done in a couple of months, which is something that I cannot do, unfortunately. I'm going to be honest, I procrastinated a little on this chapter. But I put my all into it and I think that I did pretty well. It turns out that when I was listening to Adele, it kinda set the mood for this chapter, and helped me write better in the end. The more you know, I guess. ;D**

**Let's play a game! Who wants to guess what Zia said to the Escort that made the Escort so upset? The best will be mentioned in an upcoming chapter and will receive three sponsor points! :)**

**Thanks for reading,**

**FireBreadandSnares**

**PS: And yes, I did write that itty bitty song that Zia sang to herself! :D**


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